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HaBipif A. Ms (Hijmtl^t^ 


April i8 — October io 







Hazell, Watson & Viney, Ld., 
4-8, KiRBY Street, HATroN Garden, 
London, E.C. 




Alexandra's Clippies, Queen. By Annie Matheson 242 

Antoinette, Marie, Before the Revolution. By Chas Sarolea 262 

Appassionata. By Dorothy Eyre 167 

Archer, William 393 

Authors, Letters to Living. IL — William Wymark Jones. By 

Lewis MolvUle 330 

Author, The Position of the English. By Walter M. Gallichan 234 

By an Indian Student 


Babu. Tn Defence of the 
Back Road, The 
Balfour, Arthur James 
Balkan Barbarities ... 

Balzac. Honore de. By Chaa. Sarolea 424 

Bank Holidays? Why not Fifty-two 3,55 

Barnett, Samuel Augustus. An Appreciation. By P. W. Wilson 333 

Barrie, Sir J. M., Bart. By E. Hermann 264 

Barristers, The Henchmen of. By E. 491 

Bebel, Ferdinand August. By Sidney Whitman 617 

Belgian Strike, Emile Vandervelde and the. By Chas. Sarolea 40 
Belgium, The General Strike in. By Emile Vandervelde ... 99 

Belloc, Hilaire. By J. K. Prothero 585 

Bennett. Arnold. By Richard Curie 11 

Benson. Mr. F. R., and the Stratford Festival. By C. B, 


Besant, Mrs. Annie. By C. Sheridan Jones 

Bluebelb. By J. W. Marriott ..'. 

Bohemia. In 

Books. Evertm.4n's Guide to the Best. I. — History of the 

Papacy ... ... ... 

Books of the Week. 28. Gl, 91, 124, 155, 186, 218, 251, 283, 315, 

349, 378, 412, 444, 474, 508, 540, 570, 602, 637, 667, 698, 731, 

762, 795 

Books, The Republic of. By Ernest Rhys 

Books, The Use of. to Working Men. By J. R. Clynes, M.P 

Borrow. George. By E. Hermann 

Brain Degenerating? I.s the Human. A Criticism of Mr. Bland 

By A. M. S 

Bridges, Robert. Bv E. Rhys 

Bright, .lohn. By R. B. W 

British History, Earl Percy's New Reading of 

Bronte. The Letters of Charlotte. By Margaret Hamilton 

Brooke. Augustus Stopford 

Bulgar, Serb, Greek and. By David H. Low 

Burns, John. Failure and Success. By P. W. Wilson 






Call, The. By Will Ogilvie 4 

Campbell, Rev. R. J. By E. Hermann 201 

Canada and Canadian Policy. A Nation and a Navy. By 

Augustus Bridle : — 
1 131 

II 168 

Canada, Smgle-Tax Principle in Western. By F. J. Dixon ... 685 
Canada, The Real. By G. C. Thomson:— 

Part 1 391 

,. II 429 

Carnegie Millions are Managed in America, How the. Bv 

J. L. C .". 556 

Carnegie Millions are Mismanaged in Scotland, How the ... 465 

Cecil. Lord Robert, on the Decay of Parliament. By C. 

Sheridan Jones ... ... ... ... „, 653 

Chesterton, G. K. By Richard Curie ... .. 363 

Christianity and Socialifsm. By Dr. Dearmer 818 

Church Census. A Novel. By Rev. Charles W. Crump 402 

Church Union Question in Scotland, The. By Hector Macpherson 170 
Cities of the World ;— 

L— Paris 166 

II- „ 198 

11} 230 

IV. „ 260, 812 

Civilisation, The Birth of a New. By Rev. Lord Wm. 
, Gascovne Cecil 67 

Cobbett, William.— A Great Englishman. By F. E. Green ... 66 

Conrad, Jo.teph. An Attempt at Appreciation. By Arthur L. 
Salmon 461 

Correspondence : — 

Anglican Marriage Service, The 504 

Anonymous Journalism ... 532 

Apprenticeship and its Effect on Unemployment and the 

Birth-rate 406, 438, 468, 498 

Australia 86 

Author, The Position of the English ... 312^ 410 

Correspondence (continued) — • pack 

Balfour's Lineage, Mr. 570 

Balzac and Dumas 498, 532, 562, 728, 825 

Bank Holidays? Why not Fifty-two 441, 472 

Birth-rate, Apprenticeship and its Efifect on the 406, 438, 468, 498 

Birth-rate, The Declining 347 

Books, The Use of, to Working Men 89, 122, 154 

Borrow, George 147, 249, 344, 374 

Boy Labour 442 

Brain Degenerating? Is the Human. 19, 54, 87, 116, 149, 180 

Bright, John 726, 790 

Bronte, The Letters of Charlotte 598, 632, 795 

Canada and Canadian Policy 214 

Canada ajid its Newspapers • ... 596 

Chesterton, G. K 404,470,500,535,564 

China and Opium 634, 663, 726 

Churches, The Decline of the ... . 504 

Citizen, The Call of the 22 

Civilisation, The Birth of a New 186, 218 

Cloister and the Hearth, The 218 

Cobbett's History of the Reformation 147 

Colonies and Conscription, The 696 

Conscription and the Workers 148, 249, 270 

Continental Sunday, The 338, 409, 472 

Correction, A 218 

Countryside, The Needs of the 216, 278 

Cromwell, Phillimore on 91, 122 

Dumas' Place in Literature 498, 532, 562, 728, 825 

Educational Reform 19 

Emigration Phenomenon, The 215, 278. 307 

Enterprise in Business 20, 51, 88, 117, 146 

Euripides, Was, a Woman-hater? 19 

Everyman's Politics 727, 758 

Evolution and Spiritual Doctrine 500, 538, 633 

Fels, An Open Letter to Mr. Joseph 628 

Foreign Missionaries and their Work 729 

France, The Depopulation of 755 

French a Religious People? Are the 438, 470 

German Universities 696, 820 

Goethe and the Common People 280 

Guide to the Beet Books. I. — History of the Papacy ... 824 

Half-Timerdom, The Glorious Freedom of 25 

Housing, The Case for National 693, 724, 792 

Hyndman and India, Mr 276, 629, 695 

Indiaais, Mr. Lilly on 376 

Industrial Scientific Management 306, 376 

Institute of Chartered Accountants, Mr. Cobbett and ... 404 

International Languages 26 

Irish Protestants and Home Rule 244, 310, 408 

Kinematograph and the Drama, The 247 

Land Question, The 629, 661 

Literature, Personality in 404, 442, 507 

„ The Business Man and 474 

The Villain in 470 

Lloyd George Crusade 185, 507 

London, Alone in 825 

London to Paris, From 407 

Man on the Iron Lines, The 536 

Marcus Aurelius 535 

"Mary Goes First" 790 

Mast, The Man Before the 599, 664 

Modern Fortresses Captured by Assault 23 

Mont de Piete, The 372 

Morality, International 730, 790 

Newmaji, Cardinal 26 

New Zealand and Defence 595, 658, 693 

Nietzsche 217, 281 

Pacifism and Imperialism 119, 152. 184 

Paddock, The Dapple<I 122, 154 

Paganism and Christianity 24, 86, 152 

Paradox of Pathos 570 

Parliament, The Decay of 727 

Pawnshop, Private Usury and the Public 276 

Pawnbroker? Shall we Abolish the 439 

Phillimore on Cromwell 91, 122 

PlimsoU Line 728, 792, 822 

Poet-Laureate, The 378] 407 

Protestant Protest on the Romanist Bias of Evebtman 

186, 213. 246 

"Rainless Wheat" 370 

Romanism on the Decline? Is 788, 824 

Romanist Bias of Evertmak 186, 213^ 246 

Russian Kindliness 570 

Police and the Press, The 823 

Sataniam 600, 662, 690, 728 

Schools, Reforms in our Public 691 

Serb, Greek and Bulgar 503, 532 



OorrMpcaxlenoe (eon*iiiued)— 

S.'*. To Sco Uk" 

Sopisl Ri>forni, Th<> Price of 
South Afriomi Karmore 
Spplliiii? lU'form 
Suffr«g»' Quwticwi Til.' 
SuDchky, Contiii 
Our K; 
Surplusage of W.>iii<iii 
Tbompaon, Fnnois 
Turgemiev, Ivan 

Tvpuit. The 


Usurj-. The Cumt> of 

Voluntary SvslAin. The 

White Sl'avp" Traffic ... 280,345 
WiUle. Oscar. A Romoiigtranoe ... 
Wag«e and Labour Conditions 

Wajrner the Man, Richard 

Woman in the Fitvancial World 
Women, Surplusage of 
Worker, The Problem of the 
Working Classes, The Abolition of 
Countries of the World. Australia. By E. 
Persia. By J. M 


503, 569, 602, 795 


665, 690 


221 246, 340, 408, 442, 504, 5;W 
338, 409, 472 


. 346 
. . 474 
. 374 

23, 150 


...373, 405, 468, 534, 568 


374, 405. 466, 50O, 537, 569 


^3, 283, 342 



... 308, 372 






52, 121 

Country? Town or. 

Union of South Africa. By Liddell 
By Edgar Appleton 


Dance, The Rctirth of the. By Herman Soheffauer 367 

Dawn, The Meaning of. By J. W. Marriott 392 

Dillon, Dr. Emile. A Groat Irish Journalist. By William Latey /07 

Donne, The Poetry of. Bv Prof. George Saintsbury 44 

Drama, The Kineinatograph and the. By Arthur Owen Orrett 200 

„ The Religious. By Rey. James Adderley 433 

Sex and the. By"D. E. Oliver IW 

and Social Reform. By Arthur Owen Orrett 612 

Education and the Working Man. By Cyril E. Roberta 523 

„ Ethics and Religion. By W. E. Orchard 497 

Eliot, George. By C. Sheridan Jones 361 

Emigration. The New. By L. G. Chiozza Money: — 

I.— The Colonial Advertising for the Public 195 

11.— Striking at the Heart of the Empire 228 

England and India. By W. S. LiUy: — 

I 259 

u. :.: ::. ::'. 294 

English Novel, The 683 

Ethi<«. Education and Religion. By W. E. Orchard 497 

Ethics in an Age of I>ooomat.ion. By G. F. Barbour, D.Phil. ... 132 
Everyman at the Theatre. "Mary Goes First" and the Party 

System. By Clifton York ... 744 

Evertman'8 Guide to the Beet BocAb. I.— History of the Papacy 779 
EvEBTMAN Reading Circles— Their Function and Organisation ... 678 

Fabre, Henri, the Field Naturalist 807 

Feminism, The Collapse of. By Margaret Hamilton 805 

Flaubert, Gustave 488 

Forest Music. By J. W. Marriott 303 

FrajKie, The DepopuUtion of. By W. 8. Lilly 645, 677 

French Page: — 

Joseph de Maistre on the Inequality of the Sexes 76 

"La Philoeophie de mon Onole Benjamin." By 

"La Moirt de Napoleon." By Louis Adolphe Thiers 


"Maximilien Robespierre" 

"Le Secret de la" By Honore dc Balzac ... 

"Jean Valjean." By Victor Hugo 

"L'Onde et I'Ombre"." By Victor Hugo 

" Dajiiel de Foe" 

"Michel-Ange." By H. Taine 


"Pecksniff et I'Hypocrisie Artgla»e " 

"La Cite d'Antiquite " 

"Un Portrait fran^ais de Samuel .Johnson." By H. Taine 

"L'Avem'ment de U Domocratie " 

" Le Mourtro <le Thomas Beke* " 

"Le Pelerinagc du Ohretjeo " 

"I/Cs Derniers Jours de Dryden " 

"Un Portrait du Puritain " 

"Edmund Burke" 

"La Mort de Louis XVI." By M. Mignot 

Future State, Considerations touching our. By Mourioe 

Maeterlinck : — 
1 107 

n ... 138 



145, 206 

... 240 

... 266 

... 332 

... 368 

. 436 
. 460 
.. 492 
. 530 
. 549 
.. 583 
,. 621 
.. 656 
.. 684 
.. 716 
.. 7-18 
.. 778 
.. 814 

Galsworthy's New Play, "The Fugitive" 723 

German Page: — Nietzsche, Aphor. 40, Die Friihliche Wissen- 

seJiaft, and Heine, "Ich Grolle Nioht" 300 

German Student. A. By A. G. Sheridan 686 

Univ<»rsity Education, The Othea- Side of. By E. A. 

Parker 786 

Germany Leads, Where. University Education. By G. Water- 
house ■ 657 

Goethe, Johaon von 232 

Golden Syrup. By Dora L. Mackinnon 428 

Guardians of Coasts, The. By DoroUiy H. Brown ... ... 517 

By Henri Mazel 
By the Editor :- 

Henry IV., The Miuxlor of. 
Historic Cities of the World 

Part I.— Paris 

„ II 

„ HI. „ 

„ IV 

History in the Making, 2, 34, 66, 98, 130 
322, 354, 386, 418, 450, 482, 514, 546, 

Housing, The Case for Natiomol. By L. 

I. — Housing as it is 

II.— Housing on a Large Scale 

162, 194, 226, 258, 

578, 610, 642, 674, 


G. Chiozza Money 













A Reply to Mr. Hyndman. By W. S. 

By H. Mayers Hyndman . 

India, England and. 
Lilly :- 

Part I 

„ H 

India, The Coming Catastrophe in. 

India, Two Books on 

Industrial Scientific Management. By Jos^h FeJs 

Inner Light, The. By Darrell Figgis 

Interviews : — 

Henry Arthur Jones on the Need for a National Drama. 

By C. Sheridaji Jones 

Lord Robert Cecil on the Decay of Parliament. By C. 

Sheridan Jones 653 

Irish ProtestoDto and Home Rule. By J. M. Hone 163 



Jacobin, The Anti- 

James, Henry. By J. Stephen 

Jones, Henry Arthur, on the Need for a National Drama. 

C. Sheridan Jones 

Jones, Wm. Wymark. By Lewis Melville 




Kinema, The. By Dr. Percy Dearmer *6 

Kinomatograph and the Drama, The. By Arthur Owen Orrett 200 



..: 362 

Labourer Lives, How the. By F. E. Green 

Land Problem, The, and Mr. Lloyd George ... 

Laureabeship, The Importance of the. By Caprificus 

Literary Notes, 12, 44, 82, 114, 178, 233, 298, 329, 364, 399, 428, 
458, 489, 527, 552, 588, 622, 648, 681, 717, 754, 
Literature, Personality in. By Daniel Corkery 

,, The Villain in. By C. Sheridan Jones ... 

Lwelotte. A German Princess at the Court of Louis XIV. By 
the Editor : — 

Part 1 103 

II 141 

Lloyd George, The Land Problem and 809 

Lloyd George Crusade. The. By P. W. Wilson: — 

I.— The Demand of the Able-bodied Workers 35 

n.— The Wage Problem 72 

III.— The Taxation of Land 101 

IV.— The Schools and the Children 274 

Lodge, Sir Oliver. By H. Stanley Allen, M.A.. B.Sc 713 

London, .\ Coimtryman in. The Life of a Bricklayer's Labourer. 

By Thomas Holmes 326 

London Dines, How. By John K. Prothero 688 

London Termini. By G. Alexander 647 

London to Paris, From. A National Highway. By G. Alex- 
ander 834 

I.— Robespierre. By Chas. Sarolea 387 




Makers of Modern History 
Man and His Work : — 

I.— The Man with the Pen. By C. Sheridan Jones 
II.— The Man on the Iron Lines. By C. Sheridan Jones 
III. — The Man before the Mast. By C. Sheridan Jones 
IV.— The Man on the Road. By C. Sheridan Jones 
v.— The Man behind the Footlights. By C. Sheridan 


VI.— The Miner. Prize Essay. By J. E. Ashmore 

VII.— The Man in Blue. By C. Sheridan Jones 

VIII. -The Civil Servant. Prize Essay. By H. A. Poetle- 

thwaite 643 

IX.— The Foreign Missionary. Prize Essay. By Frank D. 

Jones 675 

X.— The Compositor. Prize Essay. By F. T. Souden ... 709 

XI.— The Male Teacher. Prize Essay. By John E, Stewart 739 

XII.— The Anglican Clergyman. Prize Essay. By Rev. 

S. C. Carpenter 

Man, The Average 

Mary II., Queen of En,t?lajid 

Masterpiece for the Week : — 

Augiwtine, St., The Confessions of. By Prof. J. S. Philli 


Austen, Jane. "Pride and Prejudice." By W. R. Thomson 365 
Boswell's "Tour to the Hebri<le8 with Samuel Johnson." 

By Liddell Geddie 

Bronte, Charlotte. "Jane Eyre" 

"Villette." By Liddell Geddie... 
Evelina." By Anna Branson 
"A Child's "Book of Saints." By 








Burney. Fanny. 
Canton, William. 

Hermann ... 331 

Chaucer. "Tale of Thopas." By Liddell Geddie 811 

Dickens, Chas. "The Pickwick Papers." By Hugh Sinclair 397 
Dostoevsky's "The Idiot." By Richard Curie 459 



By C. 








Masterpiece for the Week (oontinued)— page 

Eliot, Greorgo. "Adam Bode." By Margaret Hamilton ... 267 
Gralt. "Annalfl of the Pariah." By Hector Macpherson ... 241 
Gissiug, G<K)rge. "New Orub Street." By John K. 


Hardy, Thonxas. "Teee of the D'Urbervillee." By 

Margaret Hamilton 

Hawthorne, Nathaniel. "Blithedale Romance." By C. 

Sheridan Jones 

Kempis, Thoinaa a. "The Imitation of Christ." By Mons. 

R. H. Benson 

Malory. " Morte d' Arthur." By Vida U. Soudder 
"Marona Aurelius Antoninus, The Meditations of." By 

Prof. J. S. Phillimore 

Meredith, George. "The Or<leal of Richard Feverel " 

Moore, George. "Esther Watere " 

Pascal's "Thoughts." By Chas. Sarolea 

Reade, Charles. "The Cloister and the Hearth." 

Sheridan Jones 

Stevenson, R. L. "Weir of Hermiston," By J. Stephen.,, 589 

Virgil. "The -«neid." By Prof. J. S. Phillimore 42 

Wagner's " Mastersingeirs of Nuremberg." By Florence G. 

Fidler 624 

White's "Natural History of Selborne." By Liddell Geddie 674 

Meynell, Mrs. Alice. By E. Rhys 680 

Missionary, The Case for tie. By Dr. Peircy Dearmer 359 

Morality, Private and Public. By Chas. Sarolea 547 

Murray, George Gilbert. By E. H 14 

Muse in Exile, The. By Gilbert Thomas ... 113 

Mysticism. By Dr. Percy Dearmer 457 

Nan, The Tragedy of 718 

Napoleon, The Real. By Chas. Sapolea: — 

Part 1 74 

„ H 106 

Newspaper Man Powerless in England? Why is the. By Chas. 

Sarolea 485 

Nietzsche, Friedrich. By Chas. Sarolea 136 

Outcast, An. By R. Eraser 

By Enrico Corradini 

Pacifism and Imperialism. 

Papaey, History of the 

Pathos, The Paradox of. By Gilbert Thomas 
Peasant's Plight. The Land Hunger. By F. E. 

People and Puppets 

Pilgrims of Watling Street, The. By W. H. L. Watson 

Plimsoll Line, The Tragedy of the. By our Special Commis- 




552, 594, 616, 652 

Poetry : — 

April Gold. By Arthur Stanley 

CatJibad's Prophecy. By Ruth Duffin 

Cleopatra's Needle. By Thomas Sharp ] ..'. 

Den Unbekannten Gott. Trans, from Nietzsche by S. F. 

Butchart " 

Disinherited, The. By Vorley Wright 

Evening Calm. By George S. Astins ... ,,. 

Grains that run through, The. By John Carlton ... ... 

Heine, From. Trajis. S. F. Butchart 

In Meimoriam. George Meredith. By Horace Shipp 

Moon-Path, The. By E. W. Alexander 

Music of the Heart, The. By John Carlton 
Onoe, My Playmate. By Austin Priestman ..'. 

On the Poor of London. By H. Belloo 

Sonnet. By Williajn Wordsworth ... ,.'. 

To a Dead Love. By Lilian Brierley ... 

To Faimmetta (with a Gift of Flowers). By Reginald l! 

Hme ... 

To his Ladye's Bridesmaids. By Reginald L. Hine 

To the not Inconstant Moon. By Thomas Sharp 

Poetry and the Public. By Dudley Clark ." 

Poor Live, How the — 

The Shoemaker's Story. By Thomas Holmes 

A Wharf I>abourer's Story. Bv Thomas Holmes 
Portraits and Character Sket<ihe8. Portraits by W. H. Caffyn— 

Archer, William, Portrait of 

>. ,, Character Sketch of ... 

Balfour, Arthur James, Portrait of ... 

>. „ Character Sketch of 

Balzac, Honore de, Portrait of 

» >, By Chas. Sarolea 

Barrie, Sir J. M., Bart, Portrait of 

>> >> By E. Hermann 

BebeJ, Ferdinand August, Portrait of 

_>{, „. .. „ By Sidney Whitman 

Belloo, Hilaire, Portrait of 

I. ,, By J. K. Prothero ... ... 

Besant, Mrs. Annie, Portrait of 

.. •> By C. Sheridan Jones ... 

Borrow, George, Portrait of 

... ,. By E. Hea-mann 

Bridges, Robert, Portrait of 

„ .. , ,. By E. Rhys " 

Brooke, Augustus Stopford, Portrait of 

.. .. „ Character Sketch of 

Campbell, Rev. R. J., Portrait of 

» I. By E. Hermann 

Eliot, George, Portrait of 

.. „ By C. Sheridan Jones 

Flaubert, Gustave, Portrait of 











Portraits and Character Sketc<bes (continued)— pack 

I'laubert, Gustave, Cbaraoter Sketch of 488 

Goethe, Johann von, Portrait of 225 

Character Sketch of 232 

James, Henry, Portrait of 641 

„ „ By J. Stephen 649 

Lodge, Sir Oliver, Portrait of 705 

By H. Stanley AUen, M.A., B.So. ... 713 

Meynell, Mrs. Alice, Portrait of 673 

By E. Rhys 680 

Murray, George Gilbert, Portrait of 1 

„ „ ,. By E. Hennaimi 14 

Robertson, Sir J. Forbes, Portrait of 801 

Synge, J. M., Portrait of 545 

By J. M. Hone 555 

Turgeniev, Ivan, Portrait of 289 

By Chas. Sarolea 296 

Vandeirvelde, Emile, Portrait of 84 

,, By Chas. Sarolea 40 

Wagner, Richard, Portrait of 161 

By J. Cuthbert Hadden 169 

Webb, Mrs. Sidney, Portrait of 97 

By C. M. Lloyd 105 

Price, The. By C. B. Purdom 520 

Prison; Why I went to. By George Lansbury 741 

Propitiation. By Doris L. Mackinnon 612 

Proverbs (SelecWl). By William Blake 273 

Railway Carriage, In a. By H. Leather 590 

Railways, The Nationalisation of. By Emile Vandeivelde ... 803 
Reatling, A Lay Sermon on the Art of — 

Part 1 48 

H 84 

Recaii, The. By Mary Bradford Whiting '.'.'. ... ... ... 174 

Religion, Education, Ethics and. By W. E. Orobard 497 

Reviews ; — 

Books of the Week. (See under B.) 

Bosanquet, B., LL.D., D.C.L. "The Value and Destiny of 

the Individual" 250 

Bumpus, T. Francis. "The Cathedrals and Churches of 

Rome and Southern Italy" 78 

Capes, Bernard. " The Pot of Basil " 602 

Crosse, Gordon. "The Religious Drama " 433 

Donne's Poetical Works. ' Edited by H. J. C. GriecBOn 

Chalmers 44 

Dostoevsky, Fyodor. '"The Uliot " 459 

Flaubert, Gustave. "Temptation of St. Anthony" 488 

Fuller. Sir J. Bajnpfylde, K.C.S.I., CLE. "The Empire 

of India" 27 

Gray, H. B. " The Public Schools and the Empire " ...584 

Harrison, Sidney. "V.V.'s Eyes" 847 

Hirst, F. W. " The Six Panics " 547 

Johnston, Sir Harry, G.C.M.G., K.C.B. "Pioneera in 

India" 87 

Legros, Dr. C. V. "Fahre, Poet of Science" 807 

Lewis, Geori?ina King. "John Greenleaf Whittier: His 

Life and Work" 68 

"Pascal, Pensees de." Teixte de Brunsohvigg 784 

Saintsbury, Prof. George. "The English Novel" 683 

Sandars, Mary F. " Princess and Queen of England : The 

' " '■ ... 625 

... 87 

... 426 

... 327 


Life of Mary II.' 
Samtayama, Prof. G. "Winds of Doctrine" ... 

"Thompson, Francis, The Works of " 

Tomlinson, H. M. "The Sea and the Jimgle " 
Trevelyan, G. M. " The Life of John Bright " 
Warrick, M.A., Rev. John. "The Moderators of the 

Church of Scotland " 53 

Watson, William. "The Muse in Exile " 113 

Whibley, Chas. "Eesavs in Biography" 165 

Wrenoh, G. T. "Ix»rd Lister: His Life and Work" 666 

Wyndham Papers, The 540 

Rio, Rolling down to 327 

Road that Leads to Nowhere, The. By Llewan Macartney ... 101 

Robespierre. By Chas. Sarolea 887 

Robespicrie, Carlyle on. Prize Essay. By W. K. Anderson ... 722 

Romanism on the Deeline? Is. By Hector Macphereon 749 

Rung, The First. By Munroe Clark 203 

Russia, Freedom in. By Dr. Percy Dearmer 328 

Russian Police and the Press, The. By George Raffalovitch ... 773 
Russian Prison, From a. By Helen Voronoff 486 

Satanism, The Literary Side of. By Bernard Hamilton ... 

Schools and the Children, The. By P. W. Wilson 

Schools, Reforms in our Public. By Emeritus Prof. H, 
Strong — 

Part I 

„ II 

Serb, Greek and Bulgar. By David H. Low 

Sex and the Drama. A Reply. By D. E. Oliver 

Sex Antagonism, The Bogey of. By Prof. J. Arthur 

Margaret R. Thomson 

Shaw, G. Bernard. By Ricliard Curie 

Shaw's "Lion," Bernard. By C. B. Puidom 


Single.Tax Principle in Western Canada, "rhe Growth of 

By F. J. Dixon 

Social Reform and the Drama. By Arthur Owen Orrett ... 

Socialism, Christianity and. By Dr. Dearmer 

Spring. By Dorothy Eyre 

Stories, Short: — 

Claretie, Jules. "Boum-Boum" 

., „ "Tuyet" 

... 519 

... 274 

... 584 

... 626 

... 452 

... 110 


... 780 

... 204 

... 679 

... 463 


... 685 

... 612 

... 818 

... 140 

... 592 
... 208 



Stories. Short (continued)— PAOl 

Criqu^tot, Pierre. "The Curi of Saint-Crospin " 400 

Daudet. Alphome. "The Secret of Old Cornille " 619 

"The Man with the Brain of Gold" ... 144 
Foley, Chas. "How Marriages are Made in Franco": — 

I.— "The Romantic Marriage" 432 

II. — "The Summary Marriage " 464 

Foley, Cha». "The Lie" 557 

Goo^ohild, George. "Caravan Daye" 49 

Green, F. E. "The Sheep" 817 

Ibanet, V. Blawo. "The Mannequin" 80 

Muon, A. C. "ShadowGoblimi" 236 

M«upaa3ant, Guy de. "Mv Uncle Scut bene " 176 

"The Necklace" 16 

Merim^e, Prosper. " Mateo Falcone " : — 

Part 1 336 

„ n 369 

Soheffauer, Herman. "The Shadow-Slayer".— 

Part 1 720 

,. 11 752 

Theuriet, Andr*. "Little Gab's Journey" 494 

"Ravageau" .,. • ...272 

"The Spider" ... 112 

"Uncle L6ohaudel" 304 

Stratford Festival, Mr. F. R. Benson and the. By C. B. Purdom 75 
Suffrage Question, Some Thoughts on the. By E. H. Shillito, 

B.A 164 

Sunday, The Continental. By Rev. James Addcrley 237 

Surgeon. A Great 666 

Synge, J. M. By J. M. Hone 555 

Theatre Movement, The National. By William Archer 
Thompson, The Works of Francis. By E. Hermann 



Thus Spake Zarathustra— on the Links. By W. R. T. 

Time Legeinds, Old 

Topical, The TraU of the 

Town or Country? By Edgar M. Appleton 

Usury, the Curse of. Shall We Abolish the Pawnbroker?: — 


Vambcry, Arminius. By John McEwan 
Vander\-elde, Emile, and the Belgian Strike. 
Verdi, Giu.seppc. By J. Cuthbert Hadden .. 

... 620 
... 602 

. 313 

... S-M 




By Chas. S&rolea 40 

Wagner, Richard. ,, „ „ 

Wanted — Consumers' Leagues. By Our Special 
Waterloo, The Battle of. Pa,rt II. Bv Hilaire Bolloc 

Webb, Mrs. Sidney. By C. M. Lloyd .". 

Women at Work. By Margaret Hamilton :— 

VIII.— The Sweated Worker 

IX.— The Domestic Servant 

X. — The Canvasser 

XI.— The Woman in Politics 

Woman in the Financial World. Bv Lucy H. Yates 
The Case of the Plain. By S. H. E. L. ... 

Women, The Surplusage of. By A. D. 

Working Man, Education and the. By Cyril E. Roberts 
Men, The Use of Books to. ' By J. R. Clynee 

Yeats, William ButJer. By J. M. Hone 


Commissionor 781 






AnDCRLKY, Bev. James 

Alexander, E. W 

Alexandfr, G 

ALI.F.X, H. Stanley, H.A., D.So. 


Akdrrsor, W. K 

Appleton, Edgar 

Archer, William 


Artins, George 8 

Banerjrb, p. C. 

Barbour, G. P., D. Phil. ... 

Belloc, Hilare... 

Benson, Monsignor R. H. ... 

Blake, William 

Branson, Anna 

Bridle, Augustus 

Brierlet, Lilian 

Brown, Dorothy H 

Carlton, John ... 

Carpenter, Rev, 8. C. 

Cecil, Lord William Gascoyne 

Claretie, Jules 

Clark, Dudley 

Clark, Munroe 

Clvses, J. R., M.P 

CoRKERY, Daniel 

CoRRADiNi, Enrico 

Criqcetot, Pierre 

Cri-mp, Charles W 

Curle, Riohurd 

Daudit, Alphonse 

DzARHER, Dr. Percy ... 

DnoN, P. J 

DcrriN, Ruth 

. 11, 204, 1 


287, 433 

... 39 

834, 647 

... 713 

... 40 

... 722 

... 654 

... 299 

... 679 

... 760 

... 423 

... 132 








144, 619 

46,828,869,457, B18 



Editor, The ... 
Eyre, Dorothy... 

Pels, Joseph ... 
FiDLER, Florence 6. 
Pioois, Darrell 
Foley, Charles 
Fhaber, R. 

108,166,198,230, 260 
140, 167 



483, 464, 




Gallichas, Walter M 


Postlethwaiie, H. A 


Geddie, Liddell 626 


682, 746, 


Priestman, Austin 


GooDciiiLD, George 


Prothero, John K 

'. 490, 685, 


Green, F, E 


461, 5l'5i 


Purdom, C. B 




Hadden, J. Cuthbert 

... 169, 


Rafealovitch, George 


Hamilton. Bernard 


R. B. W 


Hamilton, Margaret 6, 38, 70, 134 


625, 714, 


Rhys, Ernest 






Roberts, Cyril F 


Hermann, E 8, 14, 73 


264, 331 i 


Hine, Reginald, L 



Saintsbury, Prof. George ... 


Holmes, Thomas 



Salmon, Arthur L 


Hone, J. M 


828, 367, 


Sarolea, Chas.— 

Hyndman, H. Mayers 


40,74, 106, 136, 141, 262, 1?96, 887 

424, 485 



Scheffauer, Herman 




Jones, C. Sheridan - 

ScuDDER, Vida D 


77, 139, 361, 391, 419, 464, 488, 622 



Sharp, Thomas 



Jones, Frank D 


Sheridan, A. G. 

Shillito, E. H., B.A. .. 


Lansbcry, George 


Shipp, Horace 


Latey, William 


Sinclair, Hugh 


Leather, H. 




Lilly, W. S 


294, 646, 


Stanley, Arthur 


Lloyd, C. M. 


Stephen, J. ... 



Low, David H. !.'.' 


Stewart, John E. 

Strong, Emeritus Prof. H.A. '. 

: ;;■ 



McEwAN, John 


MacKinnon, Dora L 



Theuriet, Andr< 

112, J72, 304, 


Macpherson, Hector 

170, 241, 


Thomas, Gilbert 



Maeterlinck, Maurice 

... 107, 


Th >MSON, G. C. 



Marriott, J. W 

... 140, 


THOM.SON, Prof. J. Arthur ... 


Mason, A. C. ... ' 


Thomson, Margaret R 


Matheson, Annie 


Thomson, Rev. W. R. 


Maupassant, Guy de ...' 



Mazel, Henri 


Vandervelde, Emile, M.P. 


Melville, Lewis 




Merimee, Prosper 

Money, L. G, Chiozza,' M.P." 


Z 386; 


Waterhouse, G. 

Watson, W.H.L 





Whiting, Mary Bradford ... 
Whitman, Sidney 


Ogilvie, Will 

Oliver, D. E 

Orchard, W.E 

Orrbtt, Arthur Owen 

.■.'.' 20i6; 



Wilson, P. W 36,73 

Wordsworth, William 

Wright, Henry 

Wright, Vorloy 

W. R. T 

100, m 



Parker, E. A 


Taxes, Lucy H. 


Phillimore, Prof. J. S 

"42, 419; 


York, Clifton 


EvfiRYMAN'. Fkirav. AlMill. IS, 191,!. 


y /'// 


For Biographical Sketch, seepage 1+. 

NATUS 1866 


Arma. i», 1913 


Portrait of George Gilbert Murray ... .^ ~. 

Hittory in the Making - Notes of the Week .~ _ 
The Battle of Waterloo. Part II.— By Hilaire Belloc 
Cathbad'i Prophecy. Poem — By Ruth DuffiD 
Literary Competition ... ... >~ ~ ... 

The Call "Uy Will Ogilvie 

The Use of Book» to Workinj Men- By J. R. Clynes.M.P. 3 
Women at Work. VIII. — The Sv^eated Worker — By 

Margaret Hamilton 6 

Countries of the World. XII.— Australia— By E. Hermann 8 

" Once, My Playmate." A Japanese Child- Verse - By Austin 

Priestinau 10 

Arnold Bennett— By Richard Curie 11 

Literary Notes 12 

Masterpiece for the Week. Charlotte Bronte's " Jane Eyre " 13 

Professor Gilbert Murray By E. H 14 

The Necklace— By Guy de Maupassant — 16 

Correspondence — 

Is the Human Brain Degenerating ? ... .^ .^ .». 19 

Was Euripides a Woman-Hater ? - ... 19 

Educational Reform ... .. .^ 19 

Enterprise in Business ^ ^ ... 20 

The Call of the Citizen ~. .- —22 

Modern Fortresses Captured by Assault — ^ >. 23 

The Typist -. — 23 

Paganism and Christianity tx >m 24 

The Glorious Freedom of HalfTimerdom ^ - ... 22 

International Languages ».. . -.26 

Wages and Labour Conditions ...»_.» 26 

Cardinal Newman « >~ »• 26 

Two Books on India .~ — • ». 27 

Books of the Week ... ... ... ... ... ... 28 

List of Books Received 30 



PARLIAMENT has not been conspicuous for 
energy of late, and it is likely that the week 
will end as it began, in a general air of lan- 
guorous lassitude. The Committee of the Cabinet 
has been considering the right handling of certain 
important Bills, pending which the House has been 
marking time. The Revenue Bill showed a tendency 
to drag, and no very overwhelming desire for its 
smooth and rapid progression was manifested. This 
somnolent mood may, however, break into something 
less placid over the official Opposition amendment to 
the Plural Voting Bill. Mr. Crooks' Minimum Wage 
resolution ruffled it for an appreciable space, and then 
minds (if not heads) nodded once more. A genera- 
tion ago such a resolution would have been opposed 
" on principle," whatever that might mean in such a 
connection. To-day everyone admits that a mini- 
mum wage of 30s. would be "most desirable," and 
then calmly proceeds to ask whether it is practicable 
and in the interest of the workers. The " social con- 
science " has come to stay, and has transcended all 
party distinctions. 

The suspicion that Canada is being treated de haui 
en bas by the British Government, and that Mr. Win- 
ston Churchill is a belated reincarnation of Lord 
North, has raised a storm which, centring in Ottawa, 
has reverberated from Halifax to Vancouver. The 
Canadian Press teems with discussions, rallying cries, 
pacifications, and miscellaneous advice. The Ottawa 
Citizen taunts the Canadian Liberals with not know- 
ing the difference between a dinghy and a dread- 

nought. The Winnipeg Tribune counsels modera-t 
tion. The Toronto Globe is inflammatory. The 
London Advertiser takes up the cudgels for Canadian 
manufacturers and working meri whom it sees 
branded with the stamp of inferiority. And through 
the hubbub of comment and outcry comes the reason-* 
able voice of the Montreal Herald (Liberal), telling 
Canadians that " it will not be comportable with 
Canada's dignity, nor make for the strengthening of 
the Imperial tie, if we become so supercritical of what 
the members of the British Government say regard- 
ing us, that they will be afraid to open their mouths 
.... for fear of their motives being misinterpreted." 

President Woodrow Wilson is making history 
somewhat rapidly, and his deliverance at the Demo-i 
cratic Congress is likely to have deep-going conse- 
quences. An interesting sidelight is thrown upon his 
personality by a writer in the Ohio State Journal, who 
comments upon the conference between the President 
and Senator La Follette, who had not visited the 
White House for three years. " Such an experience," 
says this writer, " would not be possible under a poli^ 
tical regime inspired by a clamour for official plunder 
and the flesh-pots of politics. But, above these con- 
siderations, these great, earnest, candid men can meet 
to talk over the public welfare without suspecting each 
other of seeking a selfish advantage." 

The Belgian political strike, involving 500,000 
workers, appears distinctly barbarous to a people like 
ourselves, who look with suspicion upon anything like 
" unconstitutional " procedure. One is apt to forget 
that there are Constitutions which make constitutional 
protest impossible, and that the Belgian electoral 
system is one of them ; also that ever since 1 893 the 
Belgian democracy has used every peaceful means in 
its power to secure its end. To act constitutionally 
in this case means to attempt to use the very machinery 
which is the cause of the trouble as a means to remove 
it — an obviously impossible proposition. It were 
short of the mark, however, to see in this strike merely 
a crusade for " One man, one vote." It is Democracy 
against Clericalism ; the bursting of a long pent-up 
flood of resentment and wrath ; the meeting of two op-i 
posing principles and " life-systems." That the strike 
is doomed to failure is a foregone conclusion. For 
one thing, the State owns the railways, and the 
Government will see to it that they and the port of 
Antwerp are kept open. For another, such a strike is 
bound to deplete Labour to the point of inanition 
before it has so much as scratched the hide of Capital 

" Latin America for Latin Americans " is becoming 
something more than an idle tag in the great Re- 
publics of the South; Projects of militarisation are in 
the air, and writers in the South American Press cry 
shame upon the short-sighted policy of statesmen 
whose horizon is bounded by the commercial well- 
being of their people, whereas the very existence of 
Latin America depends upon "ah alliance of the 
Latin American nations," based upon a uniting and 
consolidating of military forces. The Preusa (Buenos 
Aires), one of the most influential organs of South 
America, stands for a progressive naval policy, and 
shrewdly points to the United States as an example 
of a peace-loving nation up to the knees in military 
preparation. " The States which are most avowedly 
pacifist are also most generous in their military 
expenditure," declares the Preusa. This new move- 
ment, led by the Argentine Republic, is fraught with 
momentous possibilities, and will cause a flutter among 
European capitalists. 

Aprk. i5, 1913 




Upon the next day, June 17th, this is what hap- 
pened :— 

The Prussians, defeated at Ligny, retired towards 
Brussels ; so by a parallel line did Wellington with his 
Anglo-Gcrman-Dutch force. The two halves of the 
line Napoleon had pierced were each in being, and 
each remained in the neighbourhood of the other as 
it fell back. After the Prussians, to watch them and 
see what they were doing and whither they retired, 
Napoleon sent Grouchy with a very large body of 
men ; weakening his army (lessened as it already was 
after the losses of the two battles) by nearly a third. 
Grouchy's instructions were, of course, not only to 
watch the Prussians, but to prevent them joining 
WelHngton, who was retiring by that parallel line, only 
a few miles off. On that Saturday evening the Prus- 
sians drew up round a little town called Wavre, due 
south-east of Brussels, while, only eight or nine miles 
off, Wellington put his army in line that same evening 
upon a low ridge in front of the village of Waterloo, 
which is very little short of due south of Brussels. The 
two commanders, whose united forces amounted to 
close upon the double of the whole French Army (and 
much more, of course, than double what Napoleon 
commanded, now that Grouchy was away), awaited 
the attack of the morrow; but the only one im- 
mediately in front of Napoleon was Wellington, in his 
position on the ridge. 

Napoleon delivered his main attack upon the line 
Wellington had taken up a little after one o'clock in 
the afternoon. The same morning the Prussians had 
begun to advance their troops across country from 
Wavre westward towards the Waterloo ridge, in aid of 
Wellington. If Wellington had not had a promise 
that the Prussians would do this he would not, of 
course, have risked an engagement, for his British 
and Dutch and German troops, all combined, were 
somewhat inferior in numbers, and greatly inferior 
in guns, to the force with which Napoleon faced him. 

The Prussians could not bring the whole of their 
great force across country to help Wellington in one 
body. They could only bring it bit by bit, and it was 
their freshest and first army corps, the Fourth, which 
Blucher thus led to the aid of Wellington upon that 
morning of Sunday, June i8th. 

Napoleon then b^an the attack on Wellington's 
as yet unaided line a little after one. The success or 
failure of this attack would depend upon three things : 
the pKiwer of WelHngton's command to hang on until 
the Prussians should arrive upon the scene, the hour 
by which the Prussians could manage to come, and 
Grouchy's ability or inability to intercept the Prus- 
ians, and prevent them coming up at all. Neither 
irouchy nor Napoleon knew on the Sunday morning 
whither the main Prussian body had retired or whether 
they were near Wellington or far off. If Grouchy 
•lould discover in time that the Prussians had retired 
n Wavre, and should step in between them and Wel- 
ngton, it was hopeless for Wellington to fight. Even 
if Grouchy did not find out what the Prussians had 
done, and allowed the Prussians to come up un- 
molested, it was essential that they should come up 
pretty early in the day; and Welhngton would not 
have accepted battle with an inferior force unless he 
had been distinctly promised that Blucher would 
appear upon the field somewhere between one or two 


o'clock. As a fact, Blucher did not appear with the 
first of his troops until between four and five, and they 
did not begin to make an impression until somewhat 

Meanwhile, from one o'clock, when the big artillery 
attack began — at the latest, from half -past one, when 
the first infantry attack was delivered — Wellington's 
line on the ridge had to stand the assaults of the 
French. There was at least four hours' fighting 
before the relief afforded by the arrival of the Prus- 
sians began to be felt. That arrival made, of course, 
all the difference to what was left of the day. Napo- 
leon's forces were increasingly taken up with this 
new pressure upon their right flank. The whole of 
the north-eastern horn of the battle was pushed in 

.Giofe'n) -^BRUSSELS 
i^ 1m ta\ PRUSSIAN ARMY 



to meet the increasing force of the Prussian attack, 
and still the Anglo-Dutch line on the hill held. Just 
before sunset a last desperate attempt was made to 
break that line by a charge of the Guard. This 
charge failed, largely through the action of the Com- 
mander of the 5 2nd, Colboume, afterwards Lord 
Seaton; and before it was twilight tlie combined 
pressure of the Prussians upon the French right flank, 
with the failure of their attempt to break the Anglo- 
Dutch line, had decided the action. The whole 
French line gave way, and a httle before darkness - 
the retreat of Napoleon's forces became a rout, which 
was pursued for more than twelve miles through the 
night towards the French frontier. 

That, as best as I can tell it within a very short 
compass, is the strategical and tactical story of the 
Battle of Waterloo, and the more people will keep 
in mind those main lines, the better for popular his- 

It is of some interest, though of no practical value, 
to consider what would have happened if, for any 
one of the three reasons I have mentioned, Napoleon 
had succeeded upon the field of Waterloo. Suppose, 
that is, that Grouchy had found out the line of the 
Prussicin retreat ; or supposing the Prussians had 
not come up in time (they were badly late as it was), 
or supposing Wellington's line had not held. 

Well, as to the first two suppositions, the answer is 
not very difficult. If Grouchy had found out that 
Blucher had retired upon Wavre and was close in 
the neighbourhood of Wellington, why, then he 
would have " held " the Prussians, and Wellington 
would never have fought the action of Waterloo at 


Atku ta, 1913 

all. The Prussians would have retired upon Brussels, 
and Welhngton wxiuld have retreated again to effect 
his junction with them iai front of or behind that 
town. If, again, Blucher had come up later than he 
did, Wellington would have broken contact, and put 
an end to the battle. He was, as a fact, engaged 
in the preliminaries of this, on the supposition that 
the Prussians might fail, when their pressure began 
to be felt ; and he would have been a very bad 
general, instead of a good one, if he had hesitated for 
a moment upon that conclusion, supposing tlie Prus- 
sians to have failed him. 

As to the last supposition — what would have hap- 
pened if the Anglo-Dutch line had broken before the 
Prussians came up? I think the answer is this: 
Napoleon would have reached Brussels. The Prus- 
sians would have retired upon Cologne ; but the 
forces converging upon France were far too consider- 
able to have permitted Napoleon any enduring suc- 
cess. He would, I think, quite certainly have been 
beaten in some final manner witliin a very few 
months of that occupation of Brussels ; nor do I think 
that he could possibly have recovered at home during 
the short intervening space of time the prestige which 
the retreat from Russia, the destruction of the Grand 
Army, and the catastrophe of Leipzig had ruined for 



O King, I stood upon the outer rath 

In the wild airs of night, and marked the stars. 

The wandering moons, pointing with fingers pale 

Down the vast spaces of the windless deep. 

Chanted tlieir secret runes. I, Cathbad, heard: 

They told me Deirdre's tale — a tale whereat 

Many shall weep when Deirdre's self shall be 

As dust upon the indifferent wind. I saw 

The story of her days, who lies this night 

In her first baby slumber, knowing not 

She shall be sought by kings. Her face shall bring 

Exile on princes, and the sound of wars 

Shall follow her. Deirdre, O King, shall be 

A flame of beauty in the wastes of time, 

Lovely and perilous. For her shall fall 

Great heroes and bright candles of the Gael ; 

Her eyes shall lead them over alien seas, 

Her voice entreat them down the ways of Death. 

And at the last, O King, a lonely grave 

Shall be her share — a little grave apart 

Hide her sad beauty from the eyes of men ; 

Above her passionate heart tlie swinging tides 

Shall fret the salt sea-sand, and o'er her rest 

Wild winds of ocean raise the funeral keen. 

Ruth Duffin. 


The Editor of Everyman offers a prize of Two 
Guineas for the Best Essay on "The Woman 
Teacher — Her Life and Labour," the essay not to 
exceed 1,800 words. All entries for this competition 
should be addressed to the 

Competition Editor, 

ai, Royal Terrace, 

and must reach hiin not later than May ist. It is 
recommended that essays be typewritten. 



For nearly three years he had lived in Scotland, pick- 
ing up, one by one, the broken threads of an existence 
which he had abandoned almost in boyhood ; when tlic 
memories born of his ten years' exile forced them- 
selves upon him — as they did at times — he set them 
firmly aside. He had made his choice, and he meant 
to abide by it. 

At first, in tlie glamour of new friendships, in the 
glow of renewed acquaintance with the sports and 
pastimes of his youth, the cry for widtr spaces and 
more understanding comradeship was stifled in his 
heart. Then came a close and intimate sorrow, a 
period of soul-sickness and despair ; and then, again, 
at the door of his heart the old, insistent knocking, 
and the loud, incessant call that would not be denied. 

As the winter waned he sat by his fire, gazing 
dreamily into the towers of flame, and seeing there 
the rose-red camp-fires of the Past. In the dim hour 
before the lamps he boarded the golden ship of 
Fancy, and crossed in the shadow of its purple sail the 
wide seas of the world. The familiar surroundings of 
his new life grew faint, and faded away. In their 
place was the glitter of innumerable stars through 
pointed gum-leaves, the enwrapping mystery of a 
Southern night. Only a few feet from him the forest 
of scrub closed in, dark and impenetrable, full of the 
silence that is louder than sound. Against the back- 
ground of trees the myall-logs burned redly. 

His ears were full of the distant melody of horse- 
bells; a horse, parted frcto its companions, nciglied 
across the darkness — and across the world. 

The dim outhnes of many cattle lying at rest 
forced themselves upon his vision. A myall-log 
dipped in the centre, crashed down, and broke into 
sudden flame, driving the shadows back upon the 
forest and glinting on the horns of the nearest steers. 
One beast rose, restless, stretched itself, and wandered 
moodily off camp ; another followed, and another. 

The man stirred uneasily in his chair, and woke 
with a start to the familiar surroundings of his room. 
He sighed as Memory, passing, brushed him with 
her warm, soft wing. 

He was awake now, wide awake ; but the tinkling 
horse-bells did not cease to sound. Their melody, 
mingled with the voices of old comrades, permeated 
every tinghng sense. Through the sounds a Bush 
Wind blew softly, full of tlie wail of weird things 
known only to Nature's sorrow. 

Night after night the Bush called to him in his 
dreams, and all the day her half-forgotten glamour 
wrapped him round. His sports seemed trivial and 
tame, his labour insufficient. More and more he 
hated the narrow fields, the uneventful ways, the 
sights and sounds of a life so planned and ordered 
that its very order seemed a menace of misfortune, 
so guarded and remote that it seemed to be in the 
imminent shadow of danger. 

Longing gave place to fear. The call became more 
than a love-summons, it became a command, even a 
threat; a bugle call demanding instant obedience. 
And it was under the spell of this strange,, absorbing 
fear that the ship was chosen and the die was cast. 

To-night his caiiip-firc flashes, far out beside a 
Western river, a golden sword-blade on the darkness. 
He is one with the wind-swept gum-boughs, and 
kin to the ghttering stars. The voices of the great, 
mysterious Bush play on his thralled heart to-night — 
and for ever. He dare not leave her ; nor would he if 
he dared. 

ArtIL iS, 1)1] 



In the matter of making ex-cellcnt use of brain and 
time, one of tlie best things which workmen could 
do is this: give to good book-reading during the 
coming years all the precious time they waste on 
staring at the flashy headlines and absorbing the 
worthless parade of newspaper rubbish which make up 
much of the news of the day. Let a working man 
ask himself what he remembers of the things he read 
in the papers last week, and what tliere is worth re- 
membering till next week. 

There is a probability of Parliament being called 
upon during the present Session to deal with another 
Education Bill, and it is said that, unlike previous 
ventures in this field of political action, the new Bill 
,will arouse no sectarian conflict, but will be framed 
to enable the workers' children to secure the best 
education, and reach positions which are now im- 
po^ible to them. I do not hesitate to say that Par- 
liament would do more good if the Session were used 
in passing a law to compel working men to read 
Shakespeare, Shaw, Balzac, and William Morris. It 
is a good thing to educate the children, but a bad 
thing to let the parents cease to think, or think in the 
wrong way. 

Any fundamental or substantial change in the 
economic structure which will help the working class 
to rise above their present level may be a long way off, 
and any mere change in our educational system to 
afford a better ladder for a few to climb to higher posi- 
tions will leave unchanged the great mass, who will not 
be rescued by extended Universities and the better 
training of teachers. Much as I would welcome educa- 
tional reform, I would more readily welcome a change 
in the disposition of workmen which would cause 
them to make a better use of their time now. Good 
book-reading would be no cure for labour un- 
rest. Lalxiur unrest would be increased, though 
better expressed and more scientifically directed if 
worl-cmen used to a greater extent the intellectual 
levers of Ruskin, Dickens, Meredith, and Maseficld — 
to throw in only a few uneven names. 

Reading may not make thinkers, but it broadens 
knowledge and ripens men's capacity for action. It 
enlarges the toleration of masses of men, and it 
supplies many a joyful recompense after the labours 
of the day. 

To those who adduce the difficulty of cost when 
tliinking of books of popular present-day writers, the 
answer is that the older masters, who remain masters, 
afford books in plenty that are almost as cheap as 

A book to a workman who is devoted to reading is 
not what it is to a reviewer or an author. Many a 
good book is as a gateway leading from a long round 
of drudgery and effort to obtain the means of daily 
bread. I would not have books intended to make 
men content with evil conditions, or submissive to 
them. The more men read usefully and well, the less 
will they yield to cither an excess of authority or to 
under-payment in the matter of reward for their work. 

Workmen need not now regard books as things 
devoted to the doings of society, or the interests of 
the nobility or well-to-do. Many of the best literary 
efforts illtnnine the daily lives of common folks, with- 
out whose srr^•icc the rest of men and monarchs would 
not be sure of their daily bread. Let everj' workman 
who wants to feel the breeze of the sea and know the 

lives and understand the tribulations and pleasures 
of our fisher-folks read Stephen Reynolds' " Poor 
Man's House," and he will only set it aside as a book 
to be read again. 

The long hours or bad conditions under which many 
men are employed may incline some to say that book- 
reading is a continuation of men's labour. They are 
wrong ; for any time given to the task will yield 
greater return, in better forms of pay, than they can 
secure by any similar time placed at the disposal of 
an employer. Most manual work is monotonous, dis- 
tasteful, or irksome. The subdivision of labour, pro- 
duction by piece-work, the use of machinery, and the 
pressure and speed incidental to modern trade and 
commerce are all very exacting. These are additional 
reasons why a man should taste some joys of exist- 
ence by means of the mental recreation and pleasure 
which so many great minds can readily afford him. 

By years of effort workmen are able to get little 
improvements in their condition, but these scarcely 
enlarge the margin of household comforts to 
an extent which compares with increasing necessities. 
The one department in wliich all workmen should en- 
sure increase is the department of thought and out- 

I am not arguing for a fireside life at a time when 
the season may call for a healthy country ramble, but 
many such a ramble would be the better if the work- 
man carried with him Whitman's " Song of the Open 
Road." If the road is impossible, because the man 
is already tired with work, or for reasons of time or 
money, it will cost him little to sit and secure the 
delights of Belloc's " Path to Rome." To read it will 
the better fit him for any future journey, and enable 
him to see himself and nature on a larger scale. 

In a recent number of E\ERYMAN the book of Mr. 
W. R. Lawson, dealing with our schools, was referred 
to. Most things, it was argued, were wrong with out 
education. Committees all over the country were dis- 
appointed with the results of the arduous labours of 
schoolmasters and the enormous expenditure incurred 
in our educational system. Even those who, with 
good reason, assert the existence of the difficulty show 
some diffidence when asked for a remedy ; but there 
should be no diffidence in directing the energies of 
organisations and men, to encouraging book-reading 
as indispensable to the life of many who are guilty 
of a corroding neglect. 

There are men who sneer at the small talk of 
women, and who consider that their conversation is 
made up of chatter about fashions, dress, or domestic 
trifles of no account. Have these men kept tlicir 
ears open when many of their fellows are talking ? 
At what level is their^conversation ? How often do 
they hear them talking about the things that matter, 
or of the great stores of knowledge and life-action 
which lie upon the shelves of libraries, and which are 
so seldom seen in the homes of the most useful social 
servants and wealth-producers in the country .' Tl>e 
smallest talk of women is less pitiable, and certainly 
more excusable, tlian the talk of many men. This 
reflection cannot apply to thousands of honourable 
exceptions ; but it does apply to many who, despite 
every hardship, could make far better use of their 
reading time. Working men want many things 
which books could help them to get. And,, if not, a 
good book was never a bad ornament 


ArKiL 18, 1913 

WOMEN AT WORK By Margaret Hamilton 


The question of vomen's employniciit, wilh Us attendant problems of the rate of wages, hours 0/ 
labour, and the inevitable competition with nien workers, is a biiruinn one, affecting as it docs the 
welfare of the entire community. The Editor invites his readers' views on this all-important subject. 

The case of the sweated worker cries out for im- 
mediate attention, and is of clamant importance to 
the community at large The majority of women 
employed in the sweated trades work in their homes 
under conditions of unspeakable misery and squalor. 
The children before and after school are pressed into 
the service, but the united earnings of an entire family, 
working all day and half the night, do not permit of 
the purchase of sufhcient food — ^let alone the common 
decencies of everyday life. " The Song of the Shirt," 
Tom Hood's immortal tragedy, is being enacted here 
in our city of to-day, and it is not women only who 
pay the price, working their fingers to the bone, but 
the little children, whose eyes, that should smile on 
the glad world, grow dim, whose limbs are stunted, 
whose hearts are bowed down with the cruel dis- 
cipline of work. 

And now let us see the number and variety of 
sweated trades in London only. It has been said of 
late that sweeping reforms have taken place in the 
dressmaking business, that the better-class firms have 
their goods made on the premises, in large, airy, and 
commodious workrooms. In many cases this is true. 
There still remains the fact, however, that iii the East 
End women are employed to make ladies' skirts 
(lined) at 2s. 6d. a dozen, while long coats, cut in the 
latest fashion, are paid for at /d. apiece. 

Nor is this the lowest figure. In the course of their 
investigations the British Federation for the Emanci- 
pation of Sweated Women discovered that coats are 
put out at the rate of 46. each, and that trousers are 
paid for at id. a pair. One unfortunate creature that 
the society's officers interviewed worked at this rate 
eighteen hours out of the twenty-four in the endea- 
vour to keep herself and her four children. These 
trousers are sold in the retail shops at los. to 13s. a 
pair, and some of the coats find their way into fashion- 
able establishments in the West End, where they are 
marked from two to three guineas. 

The tailoring trade, however, does not touch the 
lowest depths of penury. In a room in Hoxton, 
stripped of every remnant of wainscotting, torn off for 
fuel, with pieces even hacked off the door, in the vain 
attempt to get a little warmth from the sullen, smok- 
ing grate, I found a mother and three children, the 
eldest six and the youngest three. Their little faces 
pinched, their eyes heavy, their fingers moved with a 
dexterity and swiftness wonderful to see. The baby 
handed lengths of wire to the mother; the other two 
were more advanced, and contributed a fair share to 
the weekly exchequer. They were making artificial 
violets, and the contrast between the dainty little 
blossoms in deep purple and pale mauve and the 
wretchedness of the apartment struck home like a 

Sixpence a gross was the payment the flower- 
makers received — sixpence for one hundred and forty- 
four! You can see flowers identical in shape and 
pattern in the shop windows to-day — masses of soft 
colour, graceful, innocent-looking things. After I 
left the Hoxton garret I felt an impulse of loathing 
towards them. Day in, day out the mother sat, and 
the heap of spring-like blossoms grew beside her. The 
children had a respite sometimes. The eldest was 
driven off to school by an inspector ; the younger 

babies went early to bed. But the poor mother 
worked on, with nothing to hope for, to live for, but 
the children whom at such a sacrifice she worked to 

The art of buttonhole-making is one acquired in its 
perfection by long practice and experience ; yet at 
this moment girls and women work buttonholes in 
shirts at the same rate per gross as the violet- 
maker receives. The calico is hard, and wears the 
fingers, rasping the flesh ; but the sweater has little 
care for the flesh of his victims. He farms out his 
work, and receives with the left hand 100 per cent, in 
excess of what he pays with the right. 

The list is not yet finished. The cards of hooks 
and eyes, all neatly stitched in place, and numbering 
384 eyes and as many hooks — we have all bought 
them, and never given a thought as to who stitched 
them there, or what they were paid for doing. A 
penny a card is the price, and in some instances the 
worker has to find the thread. Children's clothes are 
made at a figure that, at first sight, seems impossible. 
The small boy's sailor suit that most young mothers 
have attempted at some time, cutting out with pride, 
and stitching away with love and happiness — two- 
pence is what the woman in the slum receives for the 
whole thing, and her earnings average from 4s. to 5 s. 
a week. 

There is no respite for the sweated worker. She 
dare not idle for an hour. She has no time to clean 
the wretched room in which she slaves ; the children 
must go unkempt; herself in rags. The one breath- 
ing space she gets is when she takes the weekly toll 
of work and receives the few poor shillings she has 
slaved to earn. She dare not stop, because, if once 
she ceases, the home, held together on so frail a tenure, 
will go. The children, deprived of the scanty food 
procured, fall sick. Worse than all, she may lose the 
employment that demands so terrible a bondage. 
For, no matter how low the pay, how severe the con- 
ditions of the sweated worker, there is always an army 
of unemployed pressing from behind, and for every 
one that falls out, overtaxed and overstrained, there 
are fifty to take her place. 

The majority of sweated workers are married 
women. The young girls employed, as a rule, com- 
mence by helping their mother, and, having once 
accepted the treadmill of ceaseless effort, find it difli- 
cult to break away. They have no chance in which to 
apply for work in a factory, and a situation as domestic 
servant is for them an impossible paradise. Without 
training, insufficiently fed, indescribably housed, the 
sweated worker is chained to her task as surely as the 
galley slaves of old. 

Box-making is one of the few industries of the East 
End that is not confined to the home. The wages 
earned, though low, compare favourably with those 
above quoted. Of late years the rate has gone up 
from I id. to a minimum of 3d. an hour. This is owing 
to the strenuous efforts of the Box-makers' Union, 
which has laboured unceasingly to improve the condi- 
tions and increase the pay of the women workers. The 
hours are fifty-eight a week, and a quick, clever hand 
can earn from 14s. upwards, according to the class of 
work she adopts. Fancy boxes, the dainty sort of 
things you buy your chocolates in, are paid for at a 

April tS, 1913 


higher rate, as are cigarette and cardboard cases for 
holding scent. 

" My young man's out of work, so what am I to do ? " 
I have heard the phrase time and again from a woman 
iworkihg her fingers to the bone at a starvation rate. 
The husband — her young man, as she calls him — is on 
the tramp, looking for a job. There must be a meal 
ready for him when he returns, a handful of fire in the 
grate, a cup of tea upon the hob. And the children, 
how can they go without food? What can the poor 
mother know or care of Trade Union rates? One's 
heart bleeds for them as they answer your questions. 
They must work early and work late, losing their youth, 
their looks, their very womanhood, in the insuperable 
task of earning the daily bread. 

Combination is the best remedy for sweating. 
Hampered, as the pioneers of the -women's unions un- 
doubtedly are, by the factor of the married woman, 
the strides they have already made are considerable. 
Even the chain-makers of Cradley Heath have 
ameliorated to some extent the misery of their lives 
by combination, while the women upholsterers have 
secured a notable advance in wages and shorter hours 
of work per week. 

Some of the less-known trades are terribly under- 

[jaid. Who would have supposed that the innocent- 
ooking doll, reposing in a shop window, admired and 
loved by all the children who pass, was in any way 
connected with the horrors of this system? Yet the 
modelling and making of dolls' heads is a recognised 
branch of East End industry. Sixpence a dozen is 
the price — a price that seems to recur throughout the 
annals of the patient slaves with an appaUing 

If the toys of a happy and innocent childhood are 
not free from the taint of the sweater, what is to be 
said of funeral trappings — the last offerings of respect 
and veneration human nature can pay to the beloved 
dead? Four and sixpence a week is the average 
amount earned by workers employed at making coffin 
and hearse furniture — furniture, let it be reahswl, sold 
by the sweater at a huge profit either to a middleman 
or direct to firms of undertakers 

You are fond of a pretty blouse, and note a shop 
that is selling them cheap. Cheap or dear, the risk is 
run that the garment is sewn with a woman's tears. 
Three-halfpence apiece is the sum paid for the plainer 
kind, rising to 2d. and 3d. for the more elaborate 
variety. Bedspreads command a higher tariff; they 
are paid for at 4^d. apiece. 

We all of us know and appreciate those handy 
boxes of hairpins of assorted size and shape. Women, 
[working hard all day, manage to make the munificent 
sum of 4s. weekly, and boxing them ! 

Four shillings! That, with the help of the chil- 
dren and, on occasions, of the husband, may mount up 
by another 3s., making in all a family exchequer of 
some 7s. Out of this pittance the rent has to be paid, 
the food bought, some show of clothing purchased, an 
occasional pair of shoes or boots bought cheap at a 
stall on Saturday night. A desperate struggle, a 
hand-to-hand fight to keep body and soul together. 
Such a combat, indeed, as would never be continued 
but for the generosity of neighbours, the unfailing 
kindliness of the poor to the poor. Is the top floor 
front in funds and cooking a dinner, she cannot enjoy 
it unless the lodger below, less fortunate than herself, 
shares the repast. There is a communism in the slums 
undreamt of in more prosperous sections of society. 
In times of trouble, when the landlord, impatient for 
his rent, distrains on the poor bits of furniture left in 
the garret, friends gather round and help the family 
to tide over the time until a few necessary articles can 

be purchased. Sickness enlists faithful service ; hours 
stolen from sleep are lavished on the sufferer; such 
apologies for luxuries as can be obtained are offered 
to the invalid. 

So wonderful is the sympathy the poor possess, soi 
keen their enthusiasm for helping each other in the 
struggle towards better things, that from their pit- 
tance they will subscribe freely and generously when 
occasion arises, without a thought of their own neces- 
sities. At the time of the great dock strike collec- 
tions were made for the men in all parts of London. 
Nowhere was the response more eagerly met than in 
the East End of London. In the districts of Hoxton 
and Bethnal Green no less than £30 was raised — in 
f ar things \ 

But for the fellowship that exists among the very 
poor they could hardly endure their existence. Every- 
where the trail of the sweater is discovered — the paper 
bag in which you buy your eggs or carry home the 
feather for your new hat may have been made at star- 
vation rates. Sixpence- — once again the sum appears 
— is the price per thousand, and in some instances 
paste has to be provided at the workers' expense. At 
the time that beaded shoes were fashionable, pd. a 
dozen pairs was the highest figure, and in many cases 
the pattern was intricate, and strained the eyes as well 
as tiring the hand. Match-boxes fetch 3d. a gross ; 
buttons are carded at 3s. per 100 gross. 

If women would combine — women of all classes and 
occupations — to bring this system of sweating to an 
end, how many lives would be brightened, how many 
lives would be spared. A small amount of capital 
would be sufficient to enable the sweated workers in 
the flower-making and kindred industries to start a co- 
ojjerative workshop, and, instead of starving for the 
sweater, work for themselves, and supply the ware- 
houses and shops direct. 

But without such help and assistance the sweated 
workers can do very httle. Those unions, as I have 
shown, have made considerable headway against the 
sweater, but, as I pointed out, there still remains 
a vast army of women, with " eyelids heavy and red," 
who, from the dawn of the morning till dark at night, 
sit over their task, the crack of the whips of hunger 
and destitution in their ears. 

Slaves of as cruel a system as ever white man im- 
posed on black, they are silent for the most part, and 
piteously uncomplaining. 

" I've only three left now, miss," said a sad-eyed 
woman when I asked after her poor, sickly little chil- 
dren. " I had eight once, but bad times came, and they 
died one after the other. I was out of work at the 
time, and my young man was in hospital. But I'm 
domg better now, and we're getting on fine." 

Her smile hurt one ; her courage was a reproach. 
Getting on fine — with five children in the grave and 
a sick husband and three babies to support! The 
attic was terribly bare and gaunt, but the truckle bed 
was clean ; the table had been scrubbed and the 
floor swept. She had been working since five that 
morning, and when I saw her it was past two. She' 
had snatched but a few minutes to give the children 
their dinner of bread and dripping, and to eat a crust 
herself. And the net result of her labour was exactly 
6d. She had stitched seventy-five sacks, for which 
she was paid at the rate of 4d. for fifty ! 

Fourpence for fifty, and she was going on fine I In- 
calculable heroism that can find a gleam of brightness 
in a Hfe so drear! Seventy-five sacks, and she hopet 
to complete the hundred by the end of the afternoon. 
And for this she wore out her life, stitching in the 
bleak attic, while the children huddled round the dying 



ArRiL 18, 19x3 


X 1 1 . — Australia 

When it is remembered that Australia covers 
2,948,366 square miles, forming more than one-fourth 
of the whole area of the British Empire, and that, 
although live-thirteenths of its area lie within the 
tropic of Capricorn, it exhibits almost every variety 
of climatic conditions, it will be seen that a compre- 
hensive and summary exposition is extremely difficult, 
if not impossible. Larger than the United States 
without Arctic Alaska, and more than three-fourths 
of Europe, and about twenty-five times as large as 
the United Kingdom, Australia is habitable by white 
men in every part, not excluding the so-called 
Australian desert. Three distinctive geographical 
features will strike the observer at his first look at a 
good map. The coastal line is remarkably small in 
proportion to the whole area, there are no consider- 
able ranges of high snow mountains, and there are 
neither lakes of any size nor rivers connecting the 
coast-line with the interior. The last two charac- 
teristics bring one face to face with the crucial problem 
of irrigation. The future of Australia hinges upon 
the question of water conservation, and, though it is a 
land of short memories for misfortunes, the recent 
unprecedented succession of good seasons has not 
availed to make thoughtful men forget the desolating 
seven years' drought of fifteen years ago. At pre- 
sent most agriculturalists pin their faith to artesian 
water bores. Subterranean water is found over huge 
areas, and scientists surmise an inexhaustible supply. 
Such borings are expensive, however, and the nature 
of the springs still obscure. Moreover, as one goes 
farther inland, the water contains too much soda for 
purposes of irrigation, and grows increasingly brackish 
towards the heart of the great " desert." 

The configuration of Australia has been compared 
to an inverted saucer. There is, to begin with, an 
outer coastal rim, some forty miles deep, of rich 
alluvial soil. Broken by Spencer's Gulf, and de- 
generating into sandhills on the edge of the Bight, this 
belt reappears on the western coast and runs north- 
ward. Above it there rises the great dividing range, 
at no point more than 250 miles from the sea, and 
falling precipitously seawards in places, with bold, 
wild escarpments. Starting at tlie northernmost point 
of Australia, Cape York, it runs southward, achieves 
mingled charm and grandeur in the Barrier ranges of 
Queensland and the Blue Mountains of New South 
Wales, and reaches its greatest elevation in Mount 
Kozsciusko, king of the Australian Alps and chief 
centre of winter sports. It breaks off at the boundary 
of Victoria and New South Wales, and, while it reap- 
pears in the west, it does not follow the alluvial rim 
northward. Behind the dividing ridge is the great 
central plain, forming the bottom of the saucer. Fol- 
lowing tlie three divisions, we get three types of 
country — green pastures and well- wooded slopes on 
the coastal rim, rolling downs and dense, high forest 
land on the range, and a treeless plain in the centre, 
unattractive to the eye, but a serious rival to the 
.wheat-fields of Canada. On the south coast one 
might imagine oneself in pastoral England. On the 
uplands the eucalyptus stands in free, open spaces, 
and rank creepers hug the roots of towering trees ; the 
desert plain is instinct with the blankness and lone- 
liness of vast spaces in a wild and virgin land. 

By E. Hermann 

The dividing range explains the climate, or rather 
climates, of Austraha. The sea breezes strike the 
eastern shore, hence the abundant rainfall along the 
coast. They are checked by the range, hence the 
scanty rainfall on the plains, which depend on the 
monsoons and western trade winds. Thus, while the 
rainfall in Sydney has averaged fifty inches over forty- 
two years, that of Western New South Wales 
averaged only nine. Add to this tlie lack of lakes, 
rivers, and snow mountains on the plain, and the mag- 
nitude of the irrigation problem jumps into instant 
view. So formidable is the drought spectre that it 
was declared a few years ago that Australia could 
never support a population at all commensurate to its 
size. But this gloomy armchair theory collapsed at 
the first impact of solid facts, as demonstrated, for 
example, by a writer in the Australian journal. Life. 
To begin with, he showed by a most ingenious map 
that the maritime belt alone would hold more than all 
Europe, minus Russia, and, further, that the rest of 
Australia contained more than twice the amount of 
land, with a rainfall of over twenty inches — that is, a 
rainfall allowing of excellent agricultural results — than 
Canada. Moreover, agriculture can be carried on 
with a rainfall of only twelve inches, while fifteen 
inches yield distinctly good returns, which adds half a 
million square miles to the credit balance of Australia. 
The gloomy theorists also left the quite extraordinary 
recuperative power of Australian soil and stock out 
of their reckoning. 


With the granting of responsible government to the 
several States, Australia passed from the amorphous 
agglomeration of a "colony" to the articulated 
organism of a nation. The people gripped the land, 
and in doing so discovered their power of grip. They 
did not excogitate theories of State Sociahsm, but 
they realised by degrees that the most important of 
Australia's undeveloped resources was its population, 
and that a man is of more value than a sheep. That 
they gave an idealistic and spiritual connotation to 
that value cannot be asserted ; but they recognised 
from the start that a man's body and brain and powers 
of enjoying the good things of life, material and 
artistic, are bigger assets than wool and coal and 
precious ore. The Federation of 1901 at once 
strengthened and controlled this new national spirit, 
giving it increased volume, but pruning its 
excrescences. To the Federal Senate and House of 
Representatives came men who were " big guns " in 
their own State, but had never realised that the con- 
flicting claims of neighbour States affected the pro- 
blems of each, and that a wise and generous dove- 
tailing of interests was the only chance of solid suc- 
cess. The reaction upon State Parliaments was 
marked, and the Australian M.P. of to-day has a 
wider outlook and far more tolerance and general 
savoir-faire than his predecessor. 

To speak of Australian politics is to say " Labour 
Government " in these days. The Australian Labour 
party is Federalist in sympathy, has learnt to think 
imperially, and is solidly protectionist. It is not anti- 
Capitalist as a whole, believes in a modified form of 
conscription, and has little patience with Socialism 
of the doctrinaire type. Above all, it represents the 

ArRiL i8, igtj 


2 i l-or\giUi6e E»it W of Crcentich 

people in the most full and real sense. It grew out of 
that new ideal of social progress which responsible 
government had called into being, and out of that 
characteristically Australian preference of ease to 
wealth which is largely the outcome of climatic con- 
ditions. Averse to any " high-falutin' " idealism or 
abstract social doctrines, the common-sense AustraHan 
worker decided that work at fair wages, pleasant, 
healthy conditions, and ample leisure were vastly pre- 
ferable to enormous returns at the price of sweated 
or excessive labour ; and he took care to send men to 
Parliament who woukl stand for this ideal. That the 
Labour party has made mistakes will be readily ad- 
mitted. It has tended to perpetuate the Caucus — a 
necessary evil in the day of a party's weakness, but a 
f>ernicious incubus in the day of its strength. It was 
at one time guilty of a selfish and short-sighted im- 
migration, or rather anti-immigration, policy — now a 
thing of the past. Its narrow definition of " Labour," 
and its exclusive insistence upon the rights of one 
class, entailed undeserved and unnecessary hardship 
upon the small tradesman and manufacturer. But, 
whatever its sins of commission and omission, its 
reign has synchronised with a period of unpre- 
cedented national prosperity, and, as a matter of fact, 
there is less paternal legislation in Australia to-day 
than in the home country. Wages Boards, Industrial 
Courts, and Trades Halls look formidable on paper, 
but it must not be forgotten that in a new and sparsely 
populated country legislation must needs be called in 
to do what is effected by economic compulsion in older 
countries, and in reality the Australian industrial law 
is no more stringent than, if as stringent as, our own. 

It remains, however, that the Australian has an 
enviable faith in legislation, and uses it freely and 
audaciously pro bono publico. 


The Labour party is commonly identified with what 
is known as the White Australia pohcy ; but there are, 
in fact, very few thoughtful and unprejudiced men in 
Australia, whatever their political convictions, who do 
not stand for the ideal of a White Australia. To make 
the question of imported coloured labour an 
economic one is to miss the real issue. No one denies 
that the country could be developed far more rapidly 
with the aid of coloured labour; but Australia has 
made up her mind' that no economic advantage can 
compensate for the degradation of both coloured and 
white which such slave-labour brings, and that a White 
Australia means political, social, and moral salvation, 
and is worth any sacrifice. And events have proved 
that the sacrifice was not nearly as great as was antici- 
pated. When the Kanakas were deported from the 
sugar district of Queensland, mill-owners declared 
that the industry would be ruined, in spite of the com- 
pensating Government bounty. Instead of this, the 
yield rose by 593,340 tons within a year. As a matter 
of hard fact, there is hardly a spot in Australia where 
the white man cannot work and thrive. 

One of the unhealthy symptoms of Australian de- 
velopment is the growth of large cities on or near the 
coast-line, and the drift of the population to these 
centres. There are few really progressive country 
towns, and the State capitals are tending towards an 



A?B1L x8, 1913 

undesirable congestion. Of all the State capitals, 
Sydney captures the imagination most completely. 
Brisbane has its own charm— mostly a matter of 
gorgeous flowering shrubs clustering round wooden 
houses on " stilts," and undulating river-banks, every 
hillside hung with villas, glorious to see from a launch 
when the purple Judas-tree is in bloom. Melbourne is 
reminiscent of an American city, with its chequer- 
board street-planning, its bustle, and its taut, well- 
groomed women. Adelaide is a sleepy city of gardens 
and churches, with a comfortable air of unostentatious 
well-to-do-ness. Fremantle is a derelict city, the 
stream of life having deflected to Perth, which is the 
real capital of Western Austraha, and has not a few 
attractions, notably a bracing climate, with cool 
nights, even at the height of summer. But one has 
seen them all before — or, at any rate, something like 

Sydney suggests nothing but itself. And this is 
not merely due to the fact that Sydney Harbour is 
one of the seven beauties of the world, and that no 
invasion of fat Philistinism can make its garden 
suburbs anything but interesting. It is rather that 
Sydney exhibits more explicitly than any of the other 
centres the emergence of a new type of life and char- 
acter, fundamentally British, yet strangely un-British. 
It is a type not a little Greek — modern Greek, that is, 
and one had almost said Levantine^in its relaxed 
and seductive grace, hedonistic tendency, artistic in- 
stincts, and scant capacity for moral indignation. Yet 
it is even more unlike any Southern type than it is 
unlike the British. It is, in fact, a new thing — a 
strangely intricate and fascinating woof of irridescent 
threads on a warp of British homespun. It is a young, 
yeasting life poised on the perilous edge of a tran- 
sition, pregnant with every eventuality, and not with- 
out indications of disaster ahead. What part the new 
capital of Canberra will play in this evolution is an 
interesting but futile speculation. We are being told 
that Canberra will be smokeless, dustless, slumless, 
odourless, mudless, and free from deleterious gases ; 
that its streets will be as spotless as a Dutch kitchen, 
and its buildings hermetically sealed against dust; 
and that it will combine beauty with efficiency. What- 
ever type such a nuisanceless city may produce, it is 
fairly safe to predict that its denizens are not likely 
to err on the side of strenuousness and self-denial. 

Misprized for generations, and used as little more 
than a dumping-ground for our failures and derelicts 
(a heartless policy from whatever point considered. 


The Publishers, after careful consideration, have 
decided not to issue the Index in the form of a supple- 
ment to the present number, as originally intended. 
Only a certain proportion of readers would have any 
use for the Index, so it has been decided to issue the 
Title-page and Index to Vol. I. as a separate publica- 
tion, which will be sent post free to any reader on 
application accompanied by 4d. in stamps. 

Cases for binding can be obtained at is. 6d. each, 
post free is. 8d. The first volume of Everyman will be 
ready next week, handsomely bound in cloth, price 
3s. 6d. net, carriage paid 4s. Numerous applications 
have already been received, and all those desirous of 
obtaining the first of what should prove a long series of 
interesting volumes should write at once to the 
EVERV.MAN Publishing Dcpt., Aldine House, Bedford 
Street, W.C. 

and a foolish one as well), Australia is at last being 
recognised as a country of unparalleled resources and 
possibilities. No area of equal size contains so much 
wealth and such a variety of wealth, and the 
Government is doing much to develop these rich 

A policy of close settlement is rigorously pursued ; 
railways and forest telephones go with, or rather pre- 
cede, the settler ; irrigation works are multiplied ; ex- 
pert instruction and advice are extended to agricul-t 
turalists and pastoralists ; an up-to-date system of 
national education, with free entry for clergy of all 
denominations, is the rule, and free railway passes are 
granted to scholars living at a distance. A more 
stringent grading of wheat and a closer supervision of 
dairy output are still desiderata, but there are indica-i 
tions of an improvement in both these directions* 
Whetlier, with all these promises of a great future, 
Australia will merit its title of " God's own country " 
depends on its men. The nation is still in the crucible. 
Saxon and Celt, Teuton and .Scandinavian have con^ 
tributed the main elements of that seething mass — 
the first two in great preponderance. What will 
emerge is in the lap of the gods. We see but indica- 

The up-country worker, be he boss or " hand," 
gives one side of the medal ; the easy-going, pleasure-* 
loving harbour-lounger another. There is a strange 
mixture of fierce independence and the habit of 
" leaning " — be it against a wall or a Governments 
One can trace the beginnings of an indigenous art 
and literature and a nascent interest in the spiritual 
world. Perhaps the least auspicious symptoms are an 
insane lust of pleasure and a Gallio-like mood, fostered 
by languorous suns. This tepid temper emerges in 
the characteristic answer of the Australian school- 
boy, who, on being asked which he preferred, Puritan 
or Cavalier, admitted that the Puritans were 
altogether too rehgious, but added, with calm objec- 
tivity, that he guessed even thai was better than too 
much drink. 

Certain it is that Australia's greatest and most im- 
mediate need is more population. It is hard to realise, 
indeed, that the present population of all Australia is 
less than that of London. And, whatever else may 
go to the shaping of the Australia that is to be, hex 
future depends very largely on the kind of human 
material the Mother-country will contribute to het 
fabric within this generation. 

A Japanese Child- Verse. 

RiYOSHI was my greatest friend. 

But now he never comes to me ; 
Yet when I go my nets to mend 

I hear him calling, out at sea. 

So when the waves come up the bay 

I tell them all about my fun, 
And whisper secrets every day ; 

The waves run back when I have done. 

And sometimes, when I'm gone to bed. 
The waves bring secrets back to me. 

And tell me what Riyoshi said. 
And how he always waits for me. 

Austin Priestkian. 

■AnuL iS, igij 



ARNOLD BENNETT > > > By Richard Curlb 

Whenever I take up one of Mr. Bennett's novels I 
feel at once the enormous sense of relief which comes 
from the knowledge that one won't be bothered by 
some fevered ethical problem. For Mr. Bennett has 
not this passion for reforming the world which has 
seized hold of so many of our best writers. His view 
of the novel is really a much wider one. In his hands 
it actually is a great slice of existence. He is not 
there to prove a case, to show up something or other, 
to preach in the guise of fiction ; he is there to unroll 
the mysterious and trivial lives of ordinary people. In 
his three most famous works, " The Old Wives' Tale," 
" Clayhanger," and " Hilda Lessways," this reahstic, 
impersonal, unexaggerated method becomes very 
impressive. One just seems to be watching familiar 
figures passing through the long years of their 
rather futile and weary lives. The illusion is so 
powerful as to be almost mesmeric. The air of 
genuine reality is astonishingly convincing. It's not 
so much that the people themselves are real (they are, 
but not overwhelmingly) as that the whole thing is 
so real, so perfectly balanced, such a complete struc- 
ture of even and tireless imagination. I think that 
one is apt to accept all this in Mr. Bennett's work 
too much as a matter of course. It's so obviously 
sound that one is inclined just to say, " That's pre- 
cisely the sort of life these people would live," without 
realising how very remarkable is the art that can in- 
duce this feeling of certainty. 

, II. 

For Mr. Bennett conceals himself with rare cun- 
ning. His work is seldom tuned to a higher key than 
that of balanced narrative. He avoids purple patches, 
all showing of himself, all philosophic outbursts. And 
yet he deals with the hidden secrets of the heart. 
Much more does he resemble Balzac than 
Dumas. As a story-teller, pure and simple, he can be 
very effective (witness such a book as " Buried 
'Alive ") ; but in his finest work he is something much 
grander — the designer of prose epics. For this is his 
foremost quality, that his great novels read like epics. 
They cover all the years of life, all the changes, all 
the history. In his canvasses people appear and die 
out, people grow old, people are bom, and with it all 
one sees ever the unchanging face of time. There 
appears no valid reason why a novel by Mr. Bennett 
should not cover a hundred years and twenty thousand 
pages. If it did, I'm certain it wouldn't cease to be 
absorbing, just because I'm certain that life itself 
wouldn't cease to be absorbing. 

And Mr. Bennett is not a mere humdrum observer. 
He is far too taken up with life to be that. He writes 
with assured vivacity, with intense zest, and he makes 
us understand things through the glow of his own 
comprehension. His books, in spite of their subdued 
tones and their moderation, are nevertheless tonics 
against ennui. For he causes very commonplace 
affairs, very usual people, to be exciting. It's easy 
enough to make the South Sea Islands thrilhng, but 
it's not so easy to make the Potteries thrilling. But 
that's what Mr. Bennett has accomplished, and there 
lies one of his triumphs. Who can read about old 
Mr. Shushions, about Clayhanger's love affair, about 
Sophia's desertion, about .Sarah Galley's illness, about 
Hilda's awakening, without feeling moved ? These 
are just random examples. And it is not only the 

personality of the people ; it is the personality of the" 
place. That curious atmosphere of the Five Towns 
is a creation — one is sensible of its dogged, old- 
fashioned, " canny," sordid spirit — a hard atmo- 
sphere, but deeply individual. 


Perhaps it is a mistake to dwell so long on these 
three books, considering the vast body of Mr. 
Bennett's other work. For he must be the author of 
something like forty volumes. He, himself, divides 
his work into novels, fantasias, short stories, belles- 
lettres, drama — a formidable list. Some of it is on a 
distinguished level and some of it is not ; but all of 
it has been dimmed more or less (dimmed in a literary 
sense, though probably not in a commercial one) by 
the shining brightness of his three masterpieces. A 
comparatively unknown work like "Leonora," for 
instance, is really a capital novel, and would have 
made for most people a considerable and deser\'ed 
reputation. And then there are such books as "Anna 
of the Five Towns," " The Card," and so on. . . ; 

As a critic, Mr. Bennett, it is well known, used to 
write week after week in the New Age, under the 
pseudonym of "Jacob Tonson." His criticisms were 
particularly just, perspicacious, and unfjinatical, 
although, in my opinion, he was now and then carried 
too far by the glamour of the ultra-modem. This lack 
of fanaticism is, of course, obvious in all that he does. 
He is that scarce and valuable thing, an original man 
without cranks. All his work is irradiated by a splen- 
did sanity. And thus in his criticism one always knew 
what to expect — freedom from the stupidities of con- 
vention, and, generally speaking, a vital appreciation 
of literature. If only someone could induce Mr. 
Bennett to republish a selection of these New Age 
papers he would be doing a service. 


A minute ago I was mentioning the name of Balzac, 
and really one might institute a suggestive com- 
parison between Balzac and Mr. Bennett. For there 
is affinity between them, though I daresay it wouldn't 
stand too precise an analysis. It's the affinity of a 
sort of universal inquisitiveness in regard to life, and 
of a colossal, concrete energy. Mr. Bennett's attitude 
to his characters is, in some ways, very like that of 
Balzac. Both men give one the impression of being 
interested in their creations to an extent far beyond 
any mere literary interest. One can easily picture 
Mr. Bennett wishing to consult Clayhanger on some 
point or other, just as one can realise how natural it 
was for Balzac to murmur on his death-bed that be 
would have been saved had a certain doctor of his 
novels been present This unfeigned interest in their 
creations is one of the chief reasons that render the 
novels of Balzac and of Mr. Bennett so engrossingly 
and so intimately alive. 


And, like Balzac, Mr. Bennett is a realist of a type 
that is romantic without being at all poetical — a man- 
of-the-world attitude not too common amongst 
authors. Certainly he has not Balzac's teeming brain, 
and he is not so creative an artist ; but, all the same, 
he approaches much nearer to Balzac in his outlook 
and in his technique than he does to the Russians for 
whom he has such enthusiasm. For he has none o! 
the Slavonic melancholy, and his psychology is in- 
variably normal. Like Balzac, he is touched by the 
prodigality of life without being oppressed by its 



ArsiL It, iji] 

disasters. He is far more the recorder than the 
theoriser, far more the studious dissector than the 
compassionate sympathiser. 

" Clayhangcr " and " Hilda Lcssways " await their 
sequel, and meanwhile Mr. Bennett has written an 
entertaining book on tlie United States, and started 
a new series of adventures of " the card." One cannot 
help doubting the wisdom of such unceasing pro- 
ductive energy. There were signs of stalencss in 
*' Hilda Lessways." Everyone has to pay the penalty 
of staggering labour if that labour is quite unremit- 
ting. Now that Mr. Bennett's fame is so secure, so 
well-founded, should he not devote liimself entirely 
to that work in which his highest ability is most 
evident and most unchallenged ? 


No musician, not even Beethoven, has been written 
about so much as Richard Wagner, the centenary of 
whose birth will be auspiciously commemorated next 
month. The literary cairn to the composer of " Lohen- 
grin " and " Tannhauser " is now of formidable pro- 
portions. Recently I had occasion to look through 
the bibliography of Wagner, and was surprised at the 
number of works bearing upon practically every aspect 
of his career. Of course, the fact ought not to go un- 
recorded that Wagner himself bore no small part in 
the rearing of the cairn. Ten substantial volumes of 
criticism, all of which have been long available to 
English readers, and an autobiography which extends 
to nearly a thousand pages, afford a fair idea of his 
literary industry. 

• • • • • 

And this bibliography is by no means closed. 
Englj^ Wagner literature is to receive important 
additions next month. There is, first of all, a new 
study of " Wagner : as Man and Artist," by Mr. Ernest 
Newman, which Messrs. Dent are to publish. Then 
we are to have a biography from the pen of Mr. John 
Runciman, with whose trenchant musical criticisms 
readers of the Saturday Review are familiar. Messrs. 
Bell will publish the book. Lastly, Mr. G. D. Gribble 
is bringing out, through Messrs. Everett, " The Master 
Works of Richard Wagner: a Study of their Plots, 
Legendary Sources, and Musical Characteristics." I 
ought to add that Messrs. Smith, Elder have just pub- 
lished " The Ring of the Nibelung of Richard 
Wagner," a translation of the poem by Randle Fynes 
which attempts to reproduce the spirit rather than the 
letter of the original. 

• • • • • 

" Katharine Tynan," who is now living near her 
birthplace in Co. Dublin, is announced to have com- 
pleted a first volume of reminiscences, in which the 
subject of Home Rule bulks largely. The industry of 
tliis gifted poet and popular novelist is really amazing. 
Her first book, which contained verse, was published in 
1885, and since then she has written about sixty works, 
mostly novels, which surely gives her an indisputable 
claim to be regarded as the most prolific among 
British women writers. Andrew Lang wrote about the 
same number of volumes, but he was as versatile as 
he was industrious. 

• • • • • 

There has been quite a record demand for Dr. 
'Alfred Russcl Wallace's new book, "Social Environ- 
ment and Moral Progress." I am not surprised, for 
not only has the author been a close student of social 
science for many years, and is therefore well entitled 
to expound it, but he has written the book when verg- 

ing on the age of ninety. This fact of itself would, I 
imagine, create a demand for tlie book. Is there 
another man alive who has written a book at so ad- 
vanced an age ? 

• • * • • 

Messrs. Harrap have launched a new scries of his- 
tories, the first volume of which (" Ancient Greece ") 
is ready. " Great Nations " is tlic title of the new 
series, which will endeavour to revive the real life 
of the past, and show how the great men and women 
of other ages still deeply influence the present by their 
deeds and thoughts. Political and military events will 
receive their proper place and proportions in the struc- 
tural framework, but more attention will be given to 
great achievements in art, literature, science, and other 
civiUsing influences. Each volume will run to about 
450 pages, and will be sold at /s. 6d. net. 

• •»**» 

We are shortly to have a biography of Matthew 
Gregory Lewis, better known as " Monk Lewis," a 
sobriquet earned by a rather unsavoury romance, 
" Ambrosio ; or, the Monk," which was published in 
1795, when the author was only twentj'. Lewis's 
career ought to provide first-class biographical mate- 
rial. He met Goethe at Weimar, was the friend of 
Byron, Shelley, and .Scott, and wrote many sensational 
plays and novels. Then he entered Parliament, made 
two voyages to the West Indies, and became the owner 
of two large estates in Jamaica. lie died in 1 818 of 
yellow fever in the Gulf of Florida, and was buried 
at sea. Lewis's " Life and Correspondence " was pub^ 
hshed in 1839, and is long out of print. There is 
room, therefore, for a new biography. 

• • « • • . 

Messrs. Sampson Low announce a work which 
promises to be rather interesting. It is entitled " Major 
Greville, V.C. : a Tale of the Great Boer War," and 
has been written by Senator G. G. Munink, a Boer 
who fought against Great Britain, and was taken 
prisoner. He was even reported to have lost his life 
at Elandslaagte. Lord Selborne and other eminent 
men have read the manuscript, and express warm 
approval of the novel, the most striking chapters of 
which are said to be those in which the author de- 
scribes, from the Boer side, the fiercest battles in the 

• • • • • 

Next month will witness the issue of the first 
number of a new literary and artistic monthly. The 
Blue Review will be edited by Mr. Middlcton Murry, 
who has gathered round liim some able contributors. 
Mr. Gilbert Cannan, Mr. Frank .Swinncrton, and Mr. 
Hugh Walpole are to be associated with the literary 
side of the journal. Artistic criticism will be in the 
hands of Mr. Albert Rothenstein, and \lx. Edward J. 
Dent will be responsible for the musical criticism. Mn 
Martin Seeker will publish the journal, which, I trust, 
will have a prosperous career. 

» • « • • 

A work which will assist writers and public speakers 
who are often at a loss for the exact word to use is 
always sure of a welcome. Something of the kind 
has been brought out by Messrs. Putnam. " Synonyms, 
Autonyms, and Associated Words " is a manual of 
reference which ought to afford practical guidance in 
the expression of ideas through the use of an exact 
and varied vocabulary. Mr. Louis A. F lemming, the 
compiler, has conbivcd to arrange the contents so 
that by turning to the word that one thinks of first, 
it is possible to find almost instantly any word that 
may be desired. X. Y. Z. 

AfRIl 1?, igij 




Charlotte Brontes "Jane Eyre 

»> # 

The publication of " Jane Eyre " dates a new era 
in literature. The leading fictionists of the 'forties 
had tabooed uncovenanted love from the master 
motives of the English novel. The plot was cribbed, 
cabin'd, and confmed until Charlotte Bronte took 
possession of the reading world with a whirlwind. The 
little governess, who had lived the greater part of her 
life in the lonely parsonage of Haworth, surrounded 
by the wide and lonely stretch of moorland that swept 
right up to the village, as if resenting the encroach- 
ment of mankind upon its solitudes, produced a work 
of fiction unique and challenging; a work that owed 
its inspiration to none of the founts of literary great- 
ness, that launched a challenge in the world, flung 
down a gauntlet that has proved the herald of innumer- 
able figlits. 

Charlotte Bronte was the first novelist who dared to 
portray the force of passion in a woman, strong and 
unafraid, pure and unashamed. The very strength of 
Jane's love for Rochester convinces one from the 
moment suspicion first enters the mind as to the 
identity of the woman hidden in the locked room, that, 
though she loves him, she will not yield to him. When 
the inevitable moment of discovery is reached, and 
suspicion is realised in the fact that the secret woman 
is Rochester's wife, Jane justifies our faith, and though 
her heart breaks she will not allow the issue between 
right and wrong for a moment to confuse her judg- 
ment. The medium the author chose for the por- 
traiture of passion was an insignificant little creature, 
insignificant from a physical standpoint, but with an 
incomparable vividity of spirit, vitality of character, 
and unconquerable will. It is the triumph, of char- 
acter, the vindication of th^^ aristocracy of tempera- 
ment tliat is the salt of humiriity. 

The book was greeted with a storm of execration, 
Charlotte was accused of an attempt to undermine 
morality, and the relations between Rochester and 
Jane were hotly canvassed. But the innate power of 
genius surmounted in triumph all obstacles, and " Jane 
Eyre," in face of the masterpieces with which it was 
contemporary, scored a success Vt'hich remains unim- 
paired to this day. 

But it is not in the portrayal of passion alone, in 
the protest of woman's right to feel and to express 
the strongest and most potent of emotions, that Char- 
lotte Bronte is remarkable. Her presentment of the 
suffering of Jane, the imaginative, highly strung child 
of intense nervous susceptibility under the rul^ of 
Mrs. Reed, is a revelation of child psychology. No- 
where else do we find such an intimate knowledge of 
the power the " terror that walks in darkness " exer- 
cises over a young mind. Take the inimitable descrip- 
tion of Jane's sufferings when, by order of her aunt, 
she is locked in the red room as punishment for her 
contumacy in resenting the tyranny of her cousins, 
John and Eliza. 

"Daylight began to forsake the red room; it was 
past four o'clock, and the beclouded afternoon was 
tending to drear twilight. I heard the rain still beat- 
ing continuously on the staircase window, and the 
wind howling in the grove behind the hall; I grew 
by degrees cold as a stone, and then my courage sank. 
I . , . And now, as I sat looking at the white bed and 
overshadowed walls — occasionally also turning a fasci- 
nated eye towards a dimly gleaming mirror — I began 
to recall what I had heard of dead men . . ; . revisit- 

ing the earth to punish the perjured and revenge the 
oppressed; ... my heart beat thick, my head grew 
hot ; a sound filled my cars which I deemed the rush- 
ing of wings : something seemed near me ; I rushed 
to the door and shook the lock in desperate effort." 

It will be remembered that Bessie, the kindly nurse- 
maid, hurries to Jane and unlocked the door. Mrs. 
Reed — the embodiment of our childish belief of ogres 
and their desperate power — thrust the child back into 
the haunted chamber, and the little creature, engulfed 
in a sea of icy terror, falls into a fit. 

The author is not always in a tense mood ; she occa- 
sionally relaxes, and, with a quiet humour that finds 
its fullest expression in the characters of the inimit- 
able curates in "Shirley," falls into a lighter vein. 
There is bitter satire as well as humour in the sketch 
of Mr. Brocklehurst. Take the memorable interview 
between him and poor Jane : 

" ' Do you say your prayers night and morning ? ' 
continued my interrogator. 

" ' Yes, sir.' 

" ' Do you read your Bible ? ' 

" ' Sometimes.' 

" ' With pleasure ? Are you fond of it ? ' 

" ' I like Revelation, and the Book of Daniel, and 
Genesis and Samuel, and a little bit of Exodus, and 
some parts of Kings and Chronicles, and Job and 
Jonah.' " 

One can see the small child, with the grave face 
and earnest eyes, quietly studying the man with the 
large features and pompous soul. 

" ' And the Psalms ? I hope you like them ? ' 

" ' No, sir.' 

" ' No ? Oh, shocking ! I have a little boy, younger 
than you, who knows six psalms by heart. And when 
you ask him which he would rather have, a ginger- 
bread nut to eat, or a verse of a psalm to learn, he 
says : " Oh, the verse of a psalm ! Angels sing 
psalms," says he. " I wish to be a little angel here 
below " ; he then gets two nuts in recompense for his 
infant piety.' " 

The life at Lowood in the Institute over which 
" Brocklehurst " is written large wrings the soul. So 
vivid, so vital is the creation of Jane, that we see her, 
understand her, agonise over her childish sorrows, 
rejoice in her simplicity of spirit and warmth of heart 
that confines such ardent pleasure in the quiet things 
of hfe. Rochester, we know, is melodrama pure and 
simple, but melodrama infused with flashes of reahty. 
His courtship of Jane is relieved by touches of pure 
comedy, and the proposal in the garden is written 
with a charm and tenderness that blots out remem- 
brance of stilted sentences and turgid phrases. 

" A waft of wind came sweeping down the laurel 
walk and trembled through the boughs of the 
chestnuts ; it wandered away — away — to an indefinite 
distance; it died. The nightingale's song was then 
the only voice of the hour ; in listening to it I again 
wept. Mr. Rochester sat quiet, looking at me gently 
and seriously. Some time passed before he spoke ; he 
at last said : 

" ' Come to my side, Jane, and let us explain and 
understand one another.' 

" ' I will never again come to your side ; I am torn 
away now, and cannot return.' 

• EveTj-man's Library. 



Kn.lL iS, 1913 

" ' But, Jane, I summon you as my wife ; it is you 
only I intend to marry. . . .' 

" ' You, Jane. I must have you for my own, entirely 
my own.' ' 

Unable to believe him, she questions again and yet 
again, and, when at last she yields, does so in a pas- 
sion of surrender. 

The culmination of Jane's love, as will be remem- 
bered, results in the tragic denouement upon her wed- 
ding morning. The author keeps alive an under- 
current of suspense, winding in and out the thread of 
the story, the dull, grey thread of tragedy against the 
glowing colours of romance. And then, at the rails of 
the altar, where Rochester, daring everything, admit- 
ting nothing, has taken the girl he desires more than 
all else, she learns the truth. 

It is on the return of the wedding party when he 
invites them all — the solicitor, the brother-in-law, and 
poor Jane herself, to visit the mad woman who is his 
wife, that Rochester suddenly rises to reality. He 
is infused with the fire of genius, and stands out for 
all time as counsel for the defence on the charge of 
unlawful but consuming passion. 

" This is my wife," said he. " Such is the sole con- 
jugal embrace I am ever to know — such are the 
endearments which are to solace my leisure hours! 
And //lis is what I wish to have " Guying his hand on 
my shoulder) : " This young girl, who stands so grave 
and quiet at the mouth of hell, looking collectedly at 
the gambols of a demon, . . . look at the difference ! 
Compare these clear eyes with the red balls yonder — 
this face with that mask — this form with that bulk ; 
then judge me, priest of the Gospel and man of the 
law, and remember, ' with what judgment ye judge 
ye shall be judged ! " 

It is a masterly touch tliat makes Jane feel no sense 
of injury or indignation against him. Consumed with 
misery, doomed to see the ruin of a woman's tenderest 
hopes, .she finds it in her heart to feel for Rochester 
such a gush of compassion, of tender pity, and healing 
regret, as washes out the sting of bitterness, and leaves 
only a vast sorrow behind. Again and again he 
pleads with her that she is the one woman meant for 
his wife, advancing every argument and appeal likely 
to influence her. Each time she repulses him, and 
finally, unable to bear the strain of conflict any longer, 
steals away as friendless, and even more penniless 
than when she entered his house. 

Her meeting with Diana and Mary Rivers, and 
their brother, St John, is told in a convincing fashion 
that robs it of any appearance of strained effect ; in- 
deed, the most remarkable thing about " Jane Eyre " 
is that the palpable improbabilities and occasional 
infringements of taste that occur in the course of the 
narrative do not seem to matter in the least. The 
effect of St. John's influence on Jane, the narrowing 
sense that springs from his personality, the limitations 
he imposes on her outlook in life are wonderfully 

But Jane's inherent vitality asserts itself; she 
breaks away from him and makes her way back to her 
" master," and discovers he is desolate indeed. 

His wife is removed, by a novelist's pardonable 
licence, having set fire to the hall, and Rochester, true 
to his character of melodramatic hero, loses his sight 
in attempting to rescue her. And so the story closes, 
and Jarie finds a home in the heart of the man she 
has loved. 

" I know what it is to live entirely for and with 
•what I love best on earth. I hold myself supremely 
blessed — ^blessed beyond what language can express ; 
because I am my husband's life as fully as he is mine. 

No woman was ever nearer to her mate than I am : 
ever more absolutely bone of his bone, and flesh of his 
flesh." And in those poignant words lie the eternal 
vindication of Jane Eyre — and her author. 


George Gilbert Aime Murray was born in 1866 
in Sydney, New South Wales, his father, the late Sir 
Terence Aubrey Murray, being President of the 
Legislative Council of New South Wales. Leaving 
Australia at the early age of eleven, he was educated 
at the Merchant Taylor's School, London, and entered 
"St. John's College, Oxford, where he had a distin- 
guished student career. He was elected Fellow of 
New College in 1888, and a year after appointed 
Professor of Greek at the University of Glasgow. In 
1908 he became Regius Professor of Greek at Oxford, 
an appointment he still holds. 

Professor Murray soon made his mark as a writer 
of rare and individual insight bottomed in consum- 
mate scholarship. His earliest work, " A History of 
Ancient Greek Literature," was followed by two plays 
— " Carlyon Sahib " and " Andromeda " — both pub- 
lished and acted. Joint author of " Liberalism and 
the Empire," he soon returned to his first love, and 
gave us a succession of characteristically " live " trans- 
lations of Greek dramas, most, if not all, of which 
were staged in due course, mainly at the Court 
Theatre. The present writer remembers an accom- 
plished and meticulous Greek scholar, who could 
" taste " the subtlest gradations of the original, going 
as near enthusiasm as a somewhat cold and phleg- 
matic habit would allow him in his appreciations of 
Professor Murray's Englishing of the " Hippolytus " 
and "Bacchae." 

But it is with his " Rise of the Greek Epic," now in 
its second edition, and his latest book, " Four Stages 
of Greek Rehgion," that Professor Murray has 
gripped the larger public; not, indeed, by "playing 
down " to it, but by seizing upon the universal and 
human in the world of Greek thought and culture. In 
brief, his books are alive, and life must ever call to 
life. He gives us not the glory that was Greece, but 
the glory by which Greece still lives, and which, in 
dying, she bequeathed to her conquerors. Professor 
Murray writes out of a sensitive and recreating imagi- 
nation, flashing a penetrative light into those dark 
caverns of Greek life which the torch of mere index- 
learning cannot reach. He tells us that his " Four 
Stages of Greek Religion " aims largely at the " filling 
of interstices " left dark by other interpreters ; but 
how much does such a filling of interstices contribute 
to the understanding of the whole? A mere brief 
flash — a single, vital phrase, perhaps — and a whole 
continent of obscure interpretation lies open to the 
light. Nowhere is this luciferous quality so apparent 
as in Professor Murray's treatment of the Hellenistic 
age — that age of sick disillusionment and " failure of 
nerve," to use Professor Bury's memorable phrase, 
when the Greek soul, bankrupt of its Olympians, 
sought blind and desperate alliances with every form 
of emotional mysticism. Compared to the feat of 
vitalising this blank and sterile period, the handling of 
the final struggle between Paganism and Christianity 
is comparatively easy. But here also there is the 
fresh evocative touch that makes familiar country a 
new creation. Professor Murray stands as the type 
of a new scholarship which is not an esoteric profes- 
sorial amusement, but part of the very stuff of life. 

E. H. 

Apkil iS, 1913 








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ArBiL i8, 1913 

THE NECKLACE > ^ ^ By Guy de Maupassant 

She was one of those pretty and charming girls, bom, 
as if by an error of destiny, into a working-class 
family. She had no dowry, no expectations, and 
allowed herself to be married to a petty clerk in the 
Office of Public Education. 

Not being able to adorn herself, she was plainly 
dressed, and as unhappy as one out of her element, for 
women have neither caste nor family, their beauty, 
their grace, and their charm making up for birth and 
parentage. Their natural delicacy, their instinctive 
elegance, their vivacity of spirit, are their only 
criterion, and this makes the daughters of the people 
the equals of the grandest ladies. 

She suffered continually, feeling herself born for 
every delicacy and luxury. She suffered from the 
shabbiness of her home, the bareness of the walls, the 
worn chairs, the ugliness of the upholstery. All these 
things, which another woman in her station would not 
even have noticed, tortured and annoyed her. The 
sight of the little Breton girl who cleaned her small 
house awakened in her vain regrets and lost dreams. 
She dreamt of silent halls carpeted with Eastern rugs, 
and lighted with tall bronze candelabra, and two tall 
footmen in knee-breeches dozing in two large arm- 
chairs, drowsy with the warmth of the stove. She 
dreamt of spacious drawing-rooms upholstered in old 
silk, of fine cabinets containing the choicest bric-a- 
brac, and of elegant little perfumed rooms suitable 
for five o'clock gossip with the most intimate friends. 

When she sat down to dinner at the round table, 
with a cloth three days old, opposite her husband, who 
uncovered the tureen, declaring delightedly, " Ah ! 
What good soup ! I know nothing better than that," 
she would dream of fine dinners, with glittering plate, 
and tapestries peopHng the walls with ancient per- 
sonages, and strange birds in the midst of a forest in 
fairyland ; she would dream of exquisite dishes served 
in beautiful vessels. 

She had no dresses, no trinkets, nothing. And she 
loved but those ; felt she was made for them. She 
had a rich friend, a convent companion, whom she ho 
longer visited, as she suffered so much on her return. 
She would cry the whole day, of chagrin, regret, 
despair, and sorrow. 

Now, one evening her husband returned home, 
highly elated, holding a large envelope in his hand. 

" See," said he, " here is something for you." 

She quickly tore the paper and drew out a printed 
card, which bore these words: — 

"The Minister of Public Education and Mme. 
Georges Ramponneau request the pleasure of M. and 
Mme. Loisel's company on the evening of Monday, 
18th January, at the Minister's residence." 

Instead of being delighted, as her husband had 
hoped, she threw the invitation spitefully on the table, 
muttering : 

" What do you think I can do with that ? " 

" But, my dear, I thought you would have been 
pleased. You never go out, and this is really a 
splendid chance for you. I have had a lot of trouble 
to get it. Everybody wants an invitation ; it is very 
select, and it is not every clerk who gets one. The 
whole official world will be there." 

She looked at him angrily, and declared with 
impatience : 

" What have I to put on my back that I could go 
there with ? " 

He had not thought of this, and stammered : 

" There's the dress with which you go to the theatre. 
It seems very nice. I " 

He stopped, astonished and bewildered at seeing 
her crying. Two large tears rolled slowly down from 
the corners of her eyes to the corners of her mouth. 
He stuttered : 

" What's wrong ? What's wrong ? " 

Then, with a strong effort, having conquered her 
feelings, she replied, in a calm voice, while drying her 
cheeks : 

" Nothing. Only I have no dress, and, conse- 
quently, do not wish to go to this entertainment. Give 
the card to some friend whose wife is better dressed 
than I am." 

He was grieved, and continued: 

" Let us see, Matilda. How much would it cost to 
get a suitable dress, one that could also be used on 
other occasions ; something nice and simple ? " 

She thought for a few seconds, calculating and 
thinking of a sum she could ask without risking an 
immediate refusal and a startled exclamation from the 
economical clerk. 

At length she answered, hesitatingly: 

" I do not know exactly, but I think that with 400 
francs I might manage." 

He paled a little, for he had reserved exactly this 
sum to buy a gun and make up a sporting party 
among some friends who were going to shoot larks 
on the plain at Nanterre. 

Nevertheless, he said: 

" Good. I shall give you the 400 francs. But you 
must get a really pretty dress." 

The day of the ball drew near, and Madame Loisel 
seemed sad, uneasy, and anxious. Her dress, never- 
theless, was ready. Her husband said to her one 
evening : 

" What's wrong ? You have been quite strange 
these last three days." 

And she replied: 

" I'm annoyed at having no jewellery, not a stone, 
nothing to wear. I shall have such a poor appear- 
ance. I almost wish I were not going to that party." 

Then he said : 

" But you can wear some natural flowers. They are 
very smart at this season. For ten francs you could 
get two or three magnificent roses." 

She was not, however, convinced. 

" No. There is nothing more humiliating than to 
have a poor appearance among rich women." 

Then her husband cried : 

" But you are stupid ! Why not go to Madame 
Forrestier and ask her to lend you some jewellery? 
You know her well enough to take such a liberty." 

She gave a cry of joy. 

" That's true. I had not thought of that." 

On the morrow she visited her friend and related 
her distress. 

Madame Forrestier went to her wardrobe, took out 
a large box, brought it, and opened it, saying to 
Madame Loisel: 

" Choose, my dear." 

She looked first at some bracelets, then at a rope of 
pearls, then at a Venetian cross of gold and stones of 
exquisite workmanship. 

She tried on the ornaments in front of the mirror, 
hesitatingly, not being able to decide which to take, 
which to leave, always asking again : 

ArRiL iS, I9>3 



" Have you nothing else ? " 

" Yes. Look for yourself. I do not know exactly 
what will please you." 

All at once she discovered in a box of black satin a 
superb diamond necklace, and her heart began to beat 
violently. Her hands trembled as she took it. She 
put it around her neck on the top of her dress, and 
looked at herself in ecstasy. 

Then she asked, hesitatingly, full of dread : 

" Could you lend me that ? It would do alone." 

" Oh, yes ; certainly." 

She fell on her friend's neck and kissed her 
effusively, then went off with her treasure. 

The day of the party arrived. Madame Loisel was 
a great success. She was the prettiest of all, elegant, 
graceful, smiling, and transported with joy. Every- 
one admired her. The Minister took notice of her. 

She danced enthusiastically, passionately, intoxi- 
cated with the pleasure of it, no longer thinking of 
anything in the triumph of her beauty, in the glory 
of her success, in a sort of mist of happiness created 
by all this homage, all this admiration. 

She left about four in the morning. Her husband, 
since midnight, had been dozing in a small drawing- 
room with three other gentlemen whose wives were 
also enjoying themselves. 

He threw the wraps which he had brought for her 
departure over her shoulders — plain garments of every- 
day life, the poorness of which contrasted with the 
elegance of the ball dress. She felt this, and wished 
to hurry away, in order not to be noticed by the other 
women, who were wrapped in rich furs. 

Loisel stopped her. 

" Wait now. You will catch cold outside. I am 
going to call a cab." 

But she would not listen, and went quickly down 
the staircase. When they had reached the street he 
could not find a cab, and they went to look for one, 
calling after the cabmen who were passing at a 

They went down towards the Seine, despairing and 
shivering with cold. At last, on the embankment, they 
found one of those old growlers that are never seen 
in Paris until night comes, as if they were ashamed of 
their wretchedness during the day. 

It conducted them to, their door, in the rue des 
Martyrs, and they mounted sadly to their home. For 
her it was ended. And he was thinking of the fact 
that he must be at the office at nine o'clock. 

She took off the cloak that covered her shoulders 
before the glass in order once again to see herself in 
her glory. But suddenly she uttered a cry. She had 
no longer the necklace around her neck. 

Her husband asked: 

" What is it that's wrong ? " 

She turned towards him distracted. 

" I have — I have — I have lost Madame Forrestier's 

He jumped up dismayed. 

" What ! How ? It isn't possible ! " 

They searched in the folds of the dress, in the folds 
of the cloak, in the pockets, everywhere. They could 
not find it anywhere. 

He asked : 

" Are you quite sure you had it when you left the 

" Yes. I felt it in the vestibule of the residence." 

" But if you had lost it in the street we would have 
heard it fall. It must be in the cab." 

"Yes. That's probable. Did you take the 
number ? " 

" No. And you, did you notice it ? " 
" No." 

They looked at each other dejectedly. At last 
Loisel said: 

" I shall go over the road we came on foot and see 
if I cannot find it." 

He went out. She remained in her ball dress, 
without strength to lie down, sitting dully on a chair, 
spiritless and unable to think. 

Her husband returned about seven o'clock. He 
had found nothing. 

He went to the pohce office, to the newspapers in 
order to offer a reward, to the cab companies' offices, 
everywhere that one could think of. 

She remained the whole day in the same state of 
collapse caused by this fearful catastrophe. 

Loisel returned in the evening with a pale, drawn 
face ; he had discovered nothing. 

"We must," said he, "write your friend that you 
have broken the clasp of the necklace, and that we are 
having it repaired. That will give us time to get it 
back again." 

She wrote to his dictation. 
At the end of the week they had lost all hope. 
And Loisel, aged by five years, declared : 
" We must think how we can replace this necklace. • 
The next day they took the box that had enclosed 
it and went to the jeweller whose name was inside. 
He consulted his books. 

" It was not I, madame, who sold this necklace ; I 
merely furnished the case." 

Then they went from jeweller to jeweller, search- 
ing for a similar necklace to the other, racking their 
brains, both sick with sorrow and anguish. 

They found, in a shop in the Palais Royal, a necklet 
of diamonds that seemed to them exactly the same as 
that for which they were searching. It was priced at 
40,000 francs. They could have it for 36,000. 

They asked the jeweller not to part with it for three 
days. And they made it a condition that he would 
take it back for 34,000 francs if the other were found 
before the end of February. 

Loisel possessed 18,000 francs that his father had 
left him. He borrowed the remainder. 

He borrowed, asking a thousand francs from one, 
five hundred from another, five louis from this one, 
three louis from that one. He granted bills, made 
ruinous pledges, and did business with usurers of all 
descriptions. He mortgaged the whole course of his 
existence, risked his signature, without knowing even 
if he could honour it, and, haunted with nightmare of 
the future, by the dark misery that was going to fall 
on him, by the prospect of all the physical privations 
and all the mental tortures, he went to fetch the new 
necklace, depositing 36,000 francs on the jeweller's 

When Madame Loisel took back the necklace to 
Madame Forrestier, the latter said to her in an icy 

" You might ha\e brought it back sooner. I might 
have needed it myself." 

She did not, however, open the case, as her friend 
had dreaded. If she had noticed the substitution 
what would she have thought ? What would she have 
said ? Would she not have taken her for a thief ? 

Madame Loisel now knew what it was to lead a 
penurious life. She took up her part, nevertheless, 
at once heroically. This terrible debt must be paid. 
She would pay it. They dispensed with the maud and 
changed their house, taking an attic under the roofs. 



ArUL It, 191] 

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She became acquainted with the rough work of the 
house, the odious drudgery of the kitchen. She 
washed the dishes, wearing her pink nails on the 
greasy pots and bottoms of the saucepans. She 
washed the dirty linen, the shirts and the dusters, and 
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others, and to obtain extensions. 

Her husband worked in the evenings, making out 
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do copying work for five sous a page. 

This life lasted for ten years. 

At the end of ten years they had paid up every- 
thing, including the charge for interest and the 
accumulation of super-interest 

Madame Loisel had now an aged appearance. 
With the household drudgery she had become a 
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she would wash the floors. Sometimes, when her hus- 
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Now, one Sunday, when she had gone for a walk in 
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taking a child for a walk. It was Madame Forrestier, 
still young, still beautiful, still attractive. 

Madame Loisel felt moved. Would she speak to 
her? Yes, certainly. Now that she had paid every- 
thing, she could tell her all about it Why not ? 

She approached her. 

" Good morning, Jeanne." 

The other did not recognise her, and, astonished at 
being addressed thus familiarly by this common-look- 
ing woman, stammered : 

" But — madame — I do not know you. . ? t You must 
be mistaken." 

" No. I'm Matilda Loisel." 

Her friend uttered a cry. 

" Oh ! My poor Matilda, how you are changed 1.7." 

"Yes, I have had hard times since I saw you last, 
and, really, it was all on your account." 

" My account ? . . . How that ? " 

" You will remember the diamond necklace xou lent 
me to go to the Minister's ball ? " 

"Yes; what about it?" 

" Well, I lost it" 

" What ! I'm sure you brought it back to me." 

" I really brought back another one exactly the 
same. And we have been paying for it these ten 
years. You can understand that for us, who have 
nothing, this was not an easy matter. ... At last it's 
finished, and I'm thankful it's done with." 

Madame Forrestier stopped. 

" You say you bought a diamond necklace to replace 
mine ? " 

"Yes. You never noticed it, then; they were so 
exactly the same." 

And she smiled with pleasure and pride. 

Madame Forrestier, greatly moved, took her by 
both hands. 

" Oh ! My poor Matilda ! But mine were imita- 
tion. They were .worth at most five hundred 
francs ! " 

Atkil i8, 1913 




To the Editor of Evervman. 

Sir, — Your correspondent Mr. Hubert Bland, in 
his article on " The Degeneration of the Human 
Brain," seems to assume that intellect is evolutionary 
and cumulative, and says that if " most clever men 
married clever women .... something would be done 
towards the increase of brain-power, both in quantity 
and quality." This is not so. However clever the 
child of a genius may be, it can never reach the intel- 
lectual height of its parent. As a proof of this state- 
ment we find that the world's geniuses have sprung 
from common or normal stock in nearly all cases, and 
that while their children have in nearly all cases been 
clever, and even experts in a particular line, yet they 
have never displayed the genius of their parents. 

Hereditary, certainly, genius may be, but not cumu- 
lative. — I am, sir, etc., W. H. DarraCOTT. 

Walthamstow, E., April nth, 1913. 

To the Editor of Everyman. 

Sir, — As a student of criticisms of Euripides, may 
I be allowed to quote some opinions which contradict 
Prof. Phillimore's conception of Euripides' teaching 
concerning women? For instance, the head master 
of the King's School, Ely, E. H. Blakeney, who was 
a distinguished Greek scholar, says, in his preface to 
" Alcestis " : " Euripides has been called a woman- 
hater, perhaps with some show of reason. But, after 
all, one may take leave now and then to doubt the 
poet's own sincerity in this regard, while, in many 
instances, much of his invective is due to rhetorical 
exaggerations, dramatic necessity, or the circum- 
stances of the play. It is, of course, obviously unfair 
and unjust to accredit a dramatic poet with the senti- 
ments of his characters." 

The comment of Sophocles on the statement that 
Euripides hated women was, " In his tragedies, yes. 
Certain it is that, woman-hater or no woman-hater, 
scarcely any poet has drawn pure, self-sacrificing, 
affectionate women with truer grace or simpler tender- 
ness than the author of the ' Alcestis ' and the 
' Iphigenia.' " — I am, sir, etc., L. J. PlENRY. 


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The education suggested by Dr. Priestman would 
be excellent, provided that the child was to be pre- 
pared for what Rousseau would be happy in calling 
the " State of Nature," but, unfortunately, we are 
born into a state of highly complex civihsation which 
makes certain demands from all who enter. If school 
life is to be of any use to a boy, it must prepare him 
for the grim struggle he will be compellea to undergo 
— otherwise it is of little use. 

To prepare a boy for complete living is the work of 
the schools of our country, and consequently a boy 
ought to leave school, after spending nine years 
within its walls, capable of applying himself to the 
work by which he has chosen to cam the wherewithal 
for hving, and also capable of spending his leisure 
moments with pleasure and profit. To place a boy in 
this very desirable position, methods of a drill char- 
acter must be employed at some stage in the process, 
and many psychologists are agreed that there is a 
period when drill methods result in very little harm 
and, I think, considerable good. The period to which 
I am referring is that just preceding the period of 
adolescence — the period of stabiHty. This is the 
period when a boy can undergo a certain amount of 
drudgery, which, if not mastered at this period, will be 
wholly neglected, with the lamentable result that the 
boy will never know the pleasure derivable from most 
studies after the student has mastered many early and 
necessary drudging lessons. I am not advocating a 
period when the child may be treated harshly, for 
from experience I know that the child, under a sym- 
pathetic teacher, can be enjoying school life while, at 
the same time, he is gaining acquaintance with facts 
and memorising them, with the result that when he 
comes to the age of reason he has a foundation of facts 
(carefully selected) upon which to reason. While we 
must remember what the child is we must keep in 
mind what we would have him become. 

Finally, sir, why should the school be a veritable ' 
fairyland ? Ought not boys from eleven to fourteen 
to be encouraged to apply themselves to the perform- 
ance of a difficult task? Why should we merely 
satisfy his characteristics and then turn him into the 
world? Should we not bridge the gulf between the 
school and workshop routine? I agree with Dr. 
Priestman when he condemns rigid routine for lower 
classes, but certainly think it folly not to encourage 
a boy, by all the means in our power, to apply himself 
to a task the completion of which involves many hours 
of not altogether pleasant labour. — I am, sir, etc., 


To the Editor of Everyman. 

Sir, — The hope that one may look to EVERYMAN 
for enlightenment on the fundamental questions of 
the day is confirmed by the article in your last issue on 
" Enterprise in Business — an Omission in the Socialist 
Argument." The writer is as clear in his demonstra- 
tion that enterprise is a quality independent of the 
present economic system as he is direct in his expo- 
sure of some common Socialist sophistries. 

Now I have little doubt that among the readers of 
Everyman there are many to whom the Socialist 
argument appeals with great effect. Though not yet 
sufficiently informed to reach a decision, they are 
strongly influenced, and unless speedily shown where 
lie its sophistries and fallacies will soon abandon their 
present state of suspended judgment, throw in their 
lot with the party of revolution, and do what they can 
to make its principles and policy prevail. The ordi- 
nary denunciations by Conservative and Liberal poli- 

ArsiL 18, 1993 



ioiaus do not avail against the facile exposition, the 

;idcnt conviction, and the abounding cntliusiasin of 

i-abian authors and Labour leaders ; whilst, if serious 

.ugunient in favour of the capitahst position exists, it 

itainly is not greatly in evidence. Very welcome, 

iiien, would be the appearance in EVERYMAN of a 

reasoned statement of the issues, a reduction of the 

roblem to its simplest terms, and a clear presentation 

: the objections to the Sociahst solution. — 1 am, sir, 

<;c., W. A. Finch. 

Birstall, Leeds, March 31st, 191 3. 

To the Editor of Everyman". 

Sir, — May I compliment very highly tlie writer on 
Uiis subject in your issue of March 28th ? 

As the head of a large federation of traders, I have 
for the last fifteen years been drawing attention to 
the difference that enterprise makes between the 
active and passive sections of the community ; and I 
thank your contributor for his admirable putting of 
tlie case. But when 1 come to his concluding section, 
MJiere he attempts to prove that enterprise is com- 
patible with and assisted by Socialism, without inform- 
ing us what he means by the term, I differ, and I think 
your contributor differs with himself; and I would 
like very much to know how he reconciles such state- 
ments as " well may the leaders of business be called 
the captains of industry, and such captains of industry 
must be prepared to face ruin and bankruptcy in the 
industrial battle." There is not much of " the security 
of Socialism " about these expressions. 

Then we have an admission that politics and 
economics may crush enterprise. But is not Socialism 
more or less a doctrine of economics? And though 
agreeing that the birth of enterprise is possible, the 
crushing of it under any Socialism of which we have 
xpcrience would be inevitable, as the wreckage of all 
,.ch systems prove. The statement that enterprise 
has been found compatible with most different political 
conditions is not to the point. The value of enterprise 
is mainly that it may become the possession of larger 
numbers of individuals rather than of a few excep- 
tions. I should not myself call scientific investigation 
enterprise except under certain conditions ; and what 
is meant by the modern State is not made quite clear. 
If it refers to present conditions in this country, then 
there is nothing that I can think of that needs so 
much the check of business principles, which some 
may call capitalism, as the enormous increase in local 
and Imperial taxation that is at present proceeding. 

The definition of Socialism given me the other day 
■ cis that it was really individualism, because every 
man possessed his own Socialism. But may I suggest 
tliat we are all Socialists as well as all individualists ; 
and that both terms represent half-truths intended to 
balance each other in the steady progress which should 
be deliberately conducted on the business principle of 
seeing a net profit when tlie transaction is completed ; 
not necessarily a profit of increased wealth in all cases, 
but increased wealth is, no doubt, a compelling object ; 
^'.id for the assurance of attaining that object, your 
' ntributor even would change his viewpoint ; but the 
world never has, and probably never will give that 
assurance. But should it by any possibihty — of which 
history gives no liint — be brought about, the security 
would mean stagnation, and enterprise, without risk or 
danger, would cease to have the meaning that your 
contributor gives to it with such generosity and ability. 
—I am, sir. etc., S. T. NICHOLSON. 



An Indispensable Guide to the Art of 
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A. C. BENSON, M.A. CV.O. F.R.H.S. 

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Maik Twain 
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Sir Henry living 

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Charles Dickens 
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Sir A. Conan Doyle 
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Justin McCurlhy 
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To the Editor of Everyman. 

Sir, — In every article advocating the enfranchise- 
ment of women much is made of the fact that women 
are the mothers of mea My experience is that " the 
bearers of the men who can and must defend their 
country" do not care one jot whether they vote or 
not It is, ' generally speaking, those " potential 
mothers " — who will probably never be mothers, owing 
to the excess of the female over the male population, 
selfishness, physical unattractiveness, and other 
reasons — who are so loud in clamouring for this vital 
necessity on behalf of their child-bearing sisters! 

I am also at a loss to discover the uplifting tendency 
of woman's influence — so often spoken of by advo- 
cates of women's suffrage— in the recent actions of the 
militant section. More harm is done to innocent, and 
also poor people, by intercepting their letters (which 
may contain matter of an urgent nature) than will be 
counterbalanced by the good that might accrue if 
women were enfranchised for half a century. It is 
callous, and it is cowardly. If the militant crusade 
were an organisation to assist in the suppression of 
the sweating system, slums, and other evils, it might 
receive some sympathy ; but why is it necessary that 
women should get the power to vote before they will 
deign to use their energies in that direction ? 

It is getting extremely awkward to distingtiish be- 
tween those women who wish to be known as our 
" equals," and the remainder — fortunately, the 
majority — who are our superiors, for we do not wish 
to treat the former class in a different way than our 
male equals. Let them display their independence 
and equality, and not cry out that the " mere man " 
is less polite than he used to be. Apologising for 
taking up so much of your valuable space, I am, sir, 
etc., ■ Voter. 


To the Editor of Everyman. 

Sir, — I agree with " Lumen " that Lady Frances 
Balfour's article, " The Call of the Citizen," is vitiated 
by its omission of any reference to Suffragette mili- 
tancy. He asks whether the militant tactics are due 
to the greater knowledge and freedom extended to 
women, and I should like, if I may, to say a few words 
in reply. 

There is a saying that " the appetite grows by what 
it feeds on," and applying this to the position of 
women, is it not possible that the greater knowledge 
extended to them has opened their eyes to visions of 
wider freedom still ahead ? Tired of broken promises 
and vacillation on the part of Cabinet Ministers, the 
militants have resorted to attacks upon property in 
the hope of concentrating public attention upon the 
question of the extension of the franchise to women, a 
question which they consider vital to the interests of 
the community. They must be admitted to have suc- 
ceeded in this, but at the same time they have brought 
upon themselves the fury of a large section of the 

They consider that the social, economic, and poli- 
tical position of women is still very far from being 
what it should be, and have resorted to their present 
methods in order to force the pace. Whether their 
methods will be successful in this time alone can 
tell, but the Government does appear to be more 
amenable to such pressure than to the simple justice 
and logic of a case. Witness the Railway and other 
strikes. The strikers might have waited until the 
Greek Kalends to obtain a rise in wages or a settle- 
ment of their claims, if they had not caused consider- 

Attn. i>, 1913 



able inconvenience to the public. And the strikers, 
having the franchiscj have not the same excuse as the 

To ask constitutional Suffragists, who only suc- 
eded in arousing a very mild interest in what had 
ume to be regarded as quite an academic question, 
until the advent of the militants ; to ask them to sup- 
press militancy is to ask of them the impossible. 
What the Government, with all its resources, and 
some of them very ugly and barbaric resources, has 
failed to do, the constitutional Suffragists cannot 
possibly do. What they can do is to bring pressure 
to bear upon the Government to introduce a Govern- 
ment measure conferring votes upon women — the one 
and only way to settle the matter. — I am, sir, etc., 

Henry Lynch. 
New Southgate, April gth, 1913. 

To the Editor of Everyman. 

Sir, — I have read Margaret Hamilton's article on 
" The Typist " in No. 25 of EVERYMAN, and would 
hasten to point out one or two flagrant errors therein. 

(i) " It is a notable fact," says the writer of this 
article, " that the average intelligence of the typist is 
lower than that of factory, shop, or domestic workers." 
I would hke to ask her from whence or whom she has 
derived this "fact" From some individuahst em- 
ployer (whose name is legion) who requires the maxi- 
mum amount of brains for the minimum salary ? 
Often the munificent sum of 12s. 6d. a week inclusive 
of overtime is considered quite a sinecure by these 
gentlemen. That sum might procure an automaton, 
^•nt it never will procure brains! 

(2) Margaret Hamilton further states that "the 
faculty of obser\-ation is developed in those callings 
mentioned above, which call for individual enterprise, 
judgment, and decision. The tapping of a typewriter 
is neither inspiring nor stimulating; the intelligence 
of the operator falls into a mechanical groove from 
which it is with difficulty aroused." I wonder where 
the average typist would be in these strenuous times 
who has no " judgment, enterprise, or decision " ; 
when she must perforce take down dictation under 


To the Editor of Everyman. 

Sir, — In one of your " Notes of the Week " in the 
current issue of EVERYMAN you refer to the storm- 
ing of Adrianople as " the solitary instance of a first- 
class fortress being carried by assault." I think this 
is an oversight. Kars, in 1877, ranked as a first-class 
fortress. It was protected (in addition to older forti- 
fications) by an outlying circle of- forts and redoubts 
planned by European engineers, and the position 
was, besides, naturally strong. After a brier bom- 
bardment with forty-eight guns on November nth, 
which produced no effect of importance, the Russians 
decided to attempt an assault, and successfully 
stormed the place by moonlight on the night of 
November 17th. The attack cost them the loss of 
over 2,000 men. 

I think we are all apt to underestimate an earlier 
exploit coming at the end of a long siege, the suc- 
cessful assault of Sebastopol by the French and Eng- 
Ksh troops. It was impossible to invest the place, and 
its capture was effected by pushing the trenches close 
up to the works that were die key of the southern 
front, and carrying them by storm.— I am, sir, etc., 

London, April 7th, 1913. A. H. A. 



A Magazine of Discussion. 


(Pottsitc 2id.) 



"What I Believe and Why -The 

Divinity of Josus Christ." 


B.A., D.D. 
Theology in the Poets." 
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and Ibsen." 

"Leading Thenloi<ical Instlta- 
Uons-Headingle}' College, Leeds. 


"What I Doubt, and Why -The 
Divinity of Jcsu> Christ." 
Prof. WALTEB M. PA r ION. 

MJV . Ph D.. D.D 
"The Personal Attitude of 
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M A. BD D.Mtt. 
"Scholars of the Age-Bobert 
Bev E W. LEWIS. M.A., B D 
"A Letter from Great Britain." 

Etc.. etc., etc. 


TKe DAILY CHRONICLE says: ' beeo voiced in our columns. that the aver.ifie 

" The average man 1=. always concerned ' mon. when not distracted by the din of the 
wlthr lision,cillierasabelicvcr,adoubter, , bailie for bread. Is .nteresttid in religion." 
or a revilcr of its cla rjs. The desi e for - ptrai ir npiNinu ........ 

rcli.ious discussio.-. rests on th ■ eternal ™'»"<- OfmOtI says: 
interest about the great unknown which ! FaithanU DciibiotwMch^he&rstnam- 
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The 6rst number of Faith and Doubt. , — , ruDiCTiAij nrnoi n 
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the names of Rev. P. J, < ainpbetl. Dr. 
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eye with tliose of Dr. Lyman .\bbott and 
Dr. Wendte. The inspiring idea of this periodical Is one which has oftea < 

certainlyafircat thing that, .11 poin s of view 
are to be admitted, and that tuth Faith and 
Doubt, both orthodox and heterod x. arc 
to be alHiwed to speak. After all, this Is 
the supreme test of any religion. " 

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the most trying circumstances, in a hurried, disjointed 
manner, her employer sometimes pacing his office 
furiously, often smoking a pipe, not infrequently hoW- 
ing a telephone conversation whilst he is dictating his 
mail. It is for her to know what is at the back of her 
employer's mind (to have that initiative which 
Margaret Hamilton says the typist possesses in such 
a very low degree), in order that the letters may clearly 
and aptly express what her employer really wishes to 
say : for woe betide the girl who types a literal tran- 
scription of her shorthand notes ! 

Granted that "the tapping of the typewriter is 
neither stimulating nor inspiring," I absolutely dis- 
claim that any machine has the power " to cause the 
intelligence of the operator to fall into a mechanical 
groove," even such, apparently to Miss Hamilton's 
notion, insentient creatures as typists. Intelligence is 
not an element present and absent at intervals. Where 
it exists it is a permanent force. 

(3) In regard to the dictaphone, Margaret Hamilton 
is in gross error when she affirms that " the number 
of typists able to realise how to use the instrument are 
few and far between." The working of same could 
not possibly be anything but simplicity itself, even to 
the meanest intelligence. Many firms — indeed, most 
of the larger business houses — use this instrument. I 
know a firm who have at least forty dictaphones, and 
the majority of the operators are juniors (who have 
had no education beyond that of a board school), and 
they manipulate the machine successfully, for salaries 
ranging from los. to 15s. per week. Many expert 
shorthand writers now find themselves, when seeking 
a post, faced with the cry, " We are not prepared to 
pay a large salary, as we use the dictaphone," render- 
ing shorthand quite unnecessary. 

Lastly, I fail to see why, "after a period of hard 
work, the typist finds herself faced with a future arid 
of ambition." Is the future of the typist any greyer 
than that of any other working woman.' Indeed, 
there are very many occupations where life is harder 
and the conditions more unfavourable. If her future 
be grey it is her own fault entirely, since happiness 
is not the exclusive possession of any particular class. 
Life holds as much for the typist as for other indi- 
viduals. — I am, sir, etc., OLIVE Searle. 

To the Editor of Everyman. 

Sir, — We have grown accustomed to hearing from 
the pulpit the Greeks accused of sensuous enjoyment, 
but when such accusations appear in EVERYMAN, 
which professes to stand for the best that classical 
Greek stood for, it is time to protest. 

In Homer we are first introduced to the Greek as 
Achaians, the period being about 1300 B.C. We find 
them a highly civilised and cultured people dwelling 
in the fertile regions of the Peloponnesus, and having 
their stronghold at Mycenaj. In respect of the status 
of their women their civilisation was in advance of 
that of the classical period, and in some respects of 
modern times also. They gave us the religion of the 
hearth and abhorred polygamy, which was practised 
by the Jews and barbarians around them. 

Homer, in the parting between Andromache and 
Hector, has given us an e.xample of married love 
which the whole of literature has never surpassed. 

In religion also the cultured Achaians were less 
superstitious than the Hellenes of a later period. 
They had advanced beyond the old beliefs. They 
were greater than their gods, and knew it. But at 
this point jye lose sight of them, except what the 

Aran. i8, 1913 



archasologist has discovered for us, for the Dorians 
came and overthrew this fine civihsation and settled in 
Sparta. Then came darkness and stagnation for 
several centuries, until light began to break over 
Attica, and Athens became the cradle of civilisation 
and school of all the world. It is round this period 
that the best literature of our time has gathered. It 
is still too early for us to comprehend the magnitude 
of our debt to classical Greece, or the work she accom- 
plished during the short time that was allotted to her. 
" We find it generally admitted that the seeds of 
Western civilisation are mostly to be found in Greece, 
and not elsewhere. Yet it is curious how seldom 
Greek literature is regarded from this point of view as 
an embodiment of the progressive spirit, an expres- 
sion of the struggle of the humem soul towards free- 
dom and ennoblement." " If we hold sacred the earliest 
source of that virtue or manliness which is the morality 
of the free European citizen, it is not to Palestine, but 
to Greece, we must make our pilgrimage." " The ideal 
of modern life may be summed up in the phrase, 
' Christian Hellenism.' " The Greeks of the classical 
period were far too busy working for posterity and 
preparing the way for Christianity to be troubled with 
ennui. How the sides of the Athenians would have 
shook with laughter could Aristophanes or Euripides 
have known that some barbarians of a grossly mate- 
riahstic age would have accused them of ennui or sen- 
suous enjoyment ! The Greeks were as far above us 
intellectually as we are above the negroes. The most 
important function of the State was to see that each 
citizen had an opportunity of developing his capacities 
to the utmost. Their capacity for enjoyment was, 
therefore, greater than ours. 

" The appreciation of good things and the power 
to refuse them is characteristic of the spirit of pro- 
gress. I think most scholars will admit that it is also 
emmently trufe of Greek civilisation." " All great 
schools of philosophy were in various degrees ascetic. 
Greek asceticism was nearly always related to some 
reasonable end, and sought the strengthening of both 
body and mind." The quotations are from Pro- 
fessors Gilbert Murray and Bernard Bosanquet. — I 
am, sir, etc., (Mrs.) J. STARK. 



To the Editor of 

Sir, — Mr. Herbert Leather would see, I think, 
if he read my letter carefully, that " the glorious 
freedom of hilf-timerdom " was used only in a com- 
parative sense. There is nothing in the sentence to 
suggest that I consider the half-time system " good." 
I suggest that the child often thinks it good, which is 
a different thing, and he does so, in many cases, be- 
cause (i) he escapes self -suppression for a time; (2) 
he is able to use his own eyes and his own tongue ; (3) 
he is allowed to laugh, and even to sing ; (4) he may 
stand or sit down without necessarily receiving a 
command ; (5) instead of being a governed machine 
with feelings, he is helping to govern a machine with- 
out feelings — much pleasanter! (6) he can better 
satisfy his energies, mental and physical, of output 
and intake ; (7) he avoids the cane ; (8) he feels that 
he has a position of trust and responsibility, and is 
doing some good, if only to himself, by earning some- 

No one in his senses can defend the half-time 
system theoretically. Practically, it is essential to life 
or existence for many families, and some mills or fac- 
tories are hygienically better than some schools, in 

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which case the children bene&t (I have known many 

That a half-timer must have a clean sheet of health 
before being allowed to work is entirely untrue. The 
examination is usually most perfunctory. 

The half-time system is thoroughly bad, wholly 
wicked ; and Mr. Leather seems rather unkindly to 
confuse me with the system ! — I am, sir, etc., 

Austin Priestman, 

Bradford, April 9th, 1913. 

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INGHAM'S lim^^^ J^^toTIm^^e^s". 

To the Editor of Everyman. 

Sir, — Samson, it is true, destroyed the temple, but 
he, at the same time, put an end to his own life. 
Should a simplified Latin or a bastard Esperanto suc- 
ceed in vanquishing Esperanto (which is not likely), 
an end will also be put to the idea of an international 
language. The co -existence of two or more inter- 
national languages will only aggravate the very evil 
desired to be removed. Esperanto so completely 
"fills the bill." Why spoil it? It will naturally 
change with time, but the changes will be inter- 
national. The various nations will not use it amongst 
themselves (except for study and practice). Its field 
being international conference, correspondence, and 
reading, national idiosyncrasies will, therefore, have 
but an infinitesimal influence upon its development. — 
I am, sir, etc., JACK EDWARDS. 

Aberystwyth, April nth, 1913. 

To the Editor of Everyman. 

Sir, — For the purpose Miss Hamilton has in view, 
it is quite necessary that wages and conditions cf 
work should be considered together. For the pui- 
ppse of social reform, however, wages and v,'ork condi- 
tions should be regarded as two distinct problems. 
By amending Factory and other Acts, Parliament can, 
with absolute . certainty, prolong the life and add to 
the health and happiness of the workers, especially 
women and children. I do not say Parliament should 
not interfere with wages, but the difficulty and un- 
certainty of the result of such interference is very 
great. It is safe to say that for one who would 
advocate interference with wages there are one 
hundred who, if they knew the facts, would favour 
further amendments to the Factory and other Acts, 
having the physical and moral welfar« of the worker 
as the object in view. — I am, sir, etc.j J. E. Wates. 

Brockley, London. 


Readers of "Everyman" arc desired to 
specially note that all advertisements which 
appear in this publication are the announce- 
ments of reputable firms, consequently no 
one need hesitate to communicate with any 
of our advertisers. 

The Advertisement Manager is prepared to 
investigate the complaint of any reader, 
should cause for the same arise at any time. 

To the Editor of Everyman. 

Sir, — I am sorry to see in your current issue the 
contemptuous reference made by Mr. Lilly to that 
highly gifted speaker, sincere Christian, and very per- 
fect gentleman, the late Rev. Hugh McNeile, D.D., 
for many years a beneficed clergyman in Liverpool, 
and who was a Canon of Chester, and finally Dean of 
Ripon. He was of sufficient importance in his day 
to call for a leading article in the Times on the occa- 
sion of his dfxease. Had Mr. Lilly known him at all 
he could not have spoken of him but in terms of great 
respect, although Dr. McNeile certainly held very 
different theological views from those of the brilliant 
and equally good and sincere Cardinal Newman. — I 
am, sir, etc., J. W. WHITE. 






In " Pioneers in India " Sir Harry Johnston has given 
us a very good specimen of popular history. These 
stories of " real adventures " are always well, often 
racily, told. The necessary explanations are suc- 
cinct and informing, and contain almost all the mate- 
rial of Indian history down to the beginning of the 
nineteenth century. The oft-told tale of Clive is 
iismissed shortly, as being too familiar, too near 
lodern times, and not dealing v/ith tlie unexplored. 
)n the other hand, the fantastic adventures of the 
lerman-Italian, Varthema, are very fully narrated, as 
ire Sir Thomas Roe's visit to the Great Mogul. 


All Englishmen like books on India; most of all, 
hose of us who have been connected with that 
ountry either through personal experience or 
irough a host of relatives and friends. We may add 
.at this category has most need of instruction ; know- 
edge based on a hmited and finished set of data is 
apt to crystallise into an imperishable dogma. The 
retired Indian civilian is one of the great disappoint- 
ments of modern England. He goes out as a picked 
man to do splendid and self-sacrificing work in one of 
the finest Government services the world has ever 
een, and he too often comes back with a mind rigidly 
closed to new ideas of any sort, whether they bear on 
east or west, on heaven or earth. 

Sir Joseph Bampfylde Fuller's book is interesting 
in every way, but one of the chief reasons of interest 
is that its author is a tried and distinguished member 
of the Indian Civil Service. Mental rigidity is by no 
means one of his characteristics ; indeed, in a singu- 
larly complete survey of modern India, with a good 
deal of ancient history thrown in, he has shown a 
breadth and originality of view that would be hard to 
rxcel. He holds a brief for his country as a civilising 
■ gency, and for his service as an inspired and efficient 
mstrument. The protection afforded by the Eughsh 
Fleet balances a few financial meannesses — amongst 
which he reckons the upkeep — by India — of the India 
Office, and the favours shown to Lancashire cotton at 
he expense of Indian manufacturers. Indeed, many 
mcidents of administration excite his keen criticism, 
though most of them are connected with Imperial 
arrangements. The eff'ects of Free Trade on India, 
for instance, are condemned in many passages. 

Sir Joseph Fuller believes in British rule in India, 
but he also believes in the gradual development of an 
Indian nation. He is strongly against premature con- 
cessions in the sphere of politics, but he pleads for a 
more systematic study and indulgence of national 
(^ntiment. A strong vein of healthy scepticism per- 
ides his observations and prognostications; he is 
loubtful of education, and he considers that the caste 
ystem is in some places growing stronger rather than 
eaker, as the attempt to foist alien customs on a 
■:>ople inevitably results in a strengthening of 
itional custom and tradition. He insists repeatedly 
that the worst evil of India, even worse than her 
marriage customs, is malaria. The illustrations and 
the chapters on ethnology and physical geography are 

• "Pioneers in India." By Sir Harry Johnston, G.C.M.G., 
K.C.B. 6s. (Blackie.) 

t "Tho Empire of India." By Sir J. Bampfylde Fuller, 
K.C.S.I., C.I.K., of the Indian Civil Service (retired), rs. 6d. 
net. (Pitman.) 


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Opposlta tlieN 


The Ixns of Court and Chancery (Macmillan, 
IS. net). This is a most instructive and, at the same 
time, entertaining volume, comprising six lectures 
delivered by members of the Inns of Court and Chan- 
cery in Middle Temple Hall last year. It is difficult to 
say which of these lectures is the most interesting, but 
perhaps to the layman the last, " Literary Men Con- 
nected with the Inns of Court and Chancery," is more 
appealing. It is with surprise that one learns how 
intimately associated with the Inns practically all the 
great writers of the past and present have been. We 
find happy recollections of Macaulay and Disraeli, 
Lamb, and, of course. Dr. Johnson. Then one is 
vastly amused at the controversy, which has ap-< 
parently been waged for many years, as to which of 
tlie Inns was the one-time home of Geoffrey Chaucer. 
Speght, writing in 1574, says, "It seemeth that 
Chaucer was of the Inner Temple, for not many years 
since Master Buckley did see a record in the same 
house where Geoffrey Chaucer was fined two shillings 
for beating a Franciscan friar in Fleet Street." The 
lecturer, Mr. Blake Odgers, K.C., is of opinion that 
this is just the sort of thing Chaucer would have done 
had he been a member of either Temple I It is re- 
freshing to learn that members of the Bar are, in 
moments of stress, capable of beating a Franciscan 
friar in Fleet Street! Mr. Odgers is profuse in his 
anecdotes of famous men, and, turning the pages at 
random, we find Henry Fielding, Goldsmith, Dickens, 
Thackeray, Sir Philip Sidney, Tom Moore, Lord Hal- 
dane, and others too numerous to mention. We are 
given a pathetic insight into the life of Fielding. " He 
joined the Western Circuit, and for a while regularly 
attended the Wiltshire Sessions. But he was deep in 
debt; he had a wife and children dependent on him, 
and he had to devote himself to writing political 
pamphlets, newspaper articles, and all kinds of literary 
work. He worked hard ; he is described by 
Thackeray as sittmg up late at night after a caroilse, 
with inky ruffles, scribbling away something for one of 
the papers, with the printer's boy fast asleep on the 
stairs outside the door." 

The remaining five lectures are not less interesting, 
and will, doubtless, appeal to those who make a study 
of the history of London. We are carried over the 
centuries from the days of Csesar and the Romans to 
Mr. Asquith. The book is vividly written from the 
first page to the last. Messrs. Macmillan and Co. have 
given to the public a compact and attractive volume, 
which will be welcome on the bookshelves of laymen 
and " Benchers " alike. 

9 » • 

Miss F. M. Mayor has had the courage to undertake 
a somewhat difficult task — depicting the life of an idle 
unmarried woman of the last generation from her child- 
hood to her deathbed. The story, THE THIRD MiSS 
Symons (Sidgwick and Jackson, Ltd., 3 s. 6d. net), is 
necessarily somewhat devoid of incident ; but it is, 
nevertheless, interesting from beginning to end, and 
as a character study is extremely clever. One cannot 
help pitying the lonely, unattractive woman who so 
greatly desires the love and affection of her fellows 
and is so incapable of arousing it. One feels im- 
patient with her for her numerous shortcomings, but, 
at the same time, is well able to comprehend how 
impossible it was for her to be otherwise than slie is. 
Her story is one which will appeal to students of 
humaii nature, and which will bring home to everyone 
how terribly cramped and drear must have been the 
life of the woman of hej day, who had nothing to do 
but (in the words of Mr. Masefield) "go passively, hke 

XritiL !?, 



poultry, along tlie tramways of their parishes." Mr. 
John Masefield's introduction shows a true apprecia- 
tion of Miss Mayor's work. It is needless to say we 
thoroujjhly enjoyed reading the book, and, if it left us 
feeling rather sorrowful, at least one has the comfort 
of hoping that tlic women of the present day are not 
doomed to such a life as that of the third Miss 
Synions. e » » 

Admirers of the Rev. J. Adderley's writings will 
welcome the second edition of A PIECE OF NEW 
Cloth (^Hunter and Longhurst, is. net}. The story 
fells of the struggles of a young Socialist parson, John 
Seymour, to overcome the prejudices of his old mother 
and father and to uplift the members of his father's 
congregation. John is an earnest and clever ex- 
ponent of tlie doctrines of free speech, and readers 
will follow with interest the arguments which Mr. 
Adderley so clearly and ably puts into the nrouth of 
his characters. The book is written in a breezy and 
refreshing manner, and there is a delightful chapter 
in which is given a humorous account of a Primrose 
League meeting, of which John's father, the old rector, 
is chainnan (prompted by his wife!). We can re- 
member having attended just such a meeting not so 
very long ago in the grounds of a certain scion of 
nobihty not far from London, and we remember the 
difficulty we experienced in keeping our countenance 
when tlic stale old platitudes were brought forward 
with such triumph by the various speakers — so duti- 
fully applauded by the yokels, led by the " gentry " 
who were keeping a watchful eye upon the audience. 
Our sympathies are entirely enlisted on behalf of the 
lero and his Socialist friends. Jack and Jill Dunkley. 
The characters are well drawn and very true to life, 
and the old rector and his wife are perfect portraits of 
the old-fashioned clergy folk. The book is amusing 
and, at the same time, shrewd and searching, and will 
doubtless be of much interest to all those who seek 
the solution of the social and religious problems of the 
present day. 

» » S' 

.\ dreamer — in a log cabin ! This may sound 
parado.xical, but in NEW LEAF MILLS (Harpers, 6s.) 
Mr. W. D. Howells has very faithfully and sympa- 
thetically chronicled the happy-go-lucky endeavours 
of his hero to reahse his ideals — the forming of a 
communal settlement in the backwoods of the New 
World some sixty years ago. 

Owen Powell is an incorrigible optimist, and hope- 
lessly unfit to cope with the problem of earning a 
decent liveliliood for himself and his wife, and chil- 
dren, much less to take the practical leadership of the 
uncouth men and women he finds himself among. 

Procrastination is the downfall of his hopes. The 
new house which is always on the verge of completion, 
the paper mills which are to become the flourishing 
centre of a new town — these, like everything else he 
attempts, all end in smoke. It is characteristic that 
he should design the "watermark" before even the 
machinery for the paper-making is installed — or likely 
to be. It is true the house is eventually so far ad- 
vanced that his wife takes matters into her own hands, 
and, despite tlie absence of plaster on the walls, insists 
on moving in, contesting (with some excuse) that " the 
rooms, with their neat lathing, like a succession of lat- 
ticed bowers," were, if somewhat draughty, at any 
rate preferable to the log cabin ! Poor Ann, she was 
never able to sec things in the picturesque hght in 
which they always her husband, and it is 
not to be wondered at that she should rebel against 
the fate which kept her iii the backwoods when she 
longed " to escape from her household back to the 


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April tS, 1913 

town, which seemed to her full of the things, the cane- 
seat-chairs things, that made living worth while " ; and 
those walls were never plastered, nor even the vines 
trained over them — and she knew, poor thing, they 
never would be. The miller, Jack Overdale, is a surly 
individual, with a queer, childlike train of superstition 
in his character, which is the cause of misunderstand- 
ings between himself and Owen. Jack is a curious 
personality, whose acquaintance we are glad to have 
made, if only as representing a phase of human nature 
not frequently met with. The characters are well 
drawn, and show an unusual insight and appreciation 
of men and women. One feels when laying down the 
book that it might with advantage have been longer. 
We should have liked to follow the history of our very 
lovable hero in the new life which he adventures upon. 
» 9 » 

Mr. Redmayne opens his story, THE GULF 
Between (Wells Gardner Darton, and Co., 6s.), in 
the homely but not uninteresting atmosphere of a 
German boarding-house, whose residents offer, with 
their hostess, Frau Meyer, excellent opportunities for 
amusing, if not very subtle, characterisation. On the 
whole, German boarding-houses seem very like the 
kind with which we are familiar in Bloomsbury. Thus 
quite early in the narrative we learn of the tragedy of 
the bath in regard to the hero, Mr. Klupps, who greatly 
rejoiced when he learnt that this luxury was not re- 
garded as an extra. Imagine his disappointment, 
however, when, on presenting himself at the apart- 
ment in the morning, he discovered that he had 
omitted to give the necessary notice overnight, which 
would have permitted of the servants removing the 
cans of petroleum, the sanitary dustbin, and the other 
impedimenta from the apartment One is reminded 
of the story of the English working man who, on being 
told that the new tenement he proposed occupying was 
without a batli, asked plaintively, " Then where do we 
keep the coal ? " However, the German boarding- 
house has other points of resemblance to those in our 
own land. As usual, there is one boarder, Kathleen 
Vaughan, who commands the affection and admiration 
of the others. The story of her love affair with a man 
whom she discovers is already married, her renuncia- 
tion and death, are cleverly worked out; but the 
climax is a trifle strained, and one could have wished 
that Mr. Redmayne had closed on the quiet and effec- 
tive key in which he opened* 

@ 9 9 

In her new novel, THE WiNGS OF Pride (Harper's, 
6s.), Miss Kennedy Mabie gives us a vivid and most 
realistic insight into the working of the caucus on the 
other side of the herring pond. We in England are 
becoming sufficiently familiar with the evils of the 
party machine, and the complete ascendency it has 
gained over politics and politicians. The gradual 
elimination of independence among the members of 
the House of Commons has long been a matter of 
grave misgiving to the student of national affairs. 
In this book Miss Mabie shows us the system carried 
out to its logical conclusion. There is, for instance, 
" Boss " Kavanagh, the arch wirepuller, who holds 
Lake City practically at ransom, and with the help 
of his hirelings and creatures organises " jobs " at 
enormous profit, practically without any risk of detec- 
tion. Miss Mabie's analysis of " graft " is one of the 
best that has yet been jjresented for the consideration 
of English readers. But it is by no means the onTy 
triumph she achieves. Her heroine is an admirable 
presentation of a young woman, flushed with 
the arrogance of youth, made humble by experience 
in a land whose characteristic virtues do not certainly 

tend in that direction. The struggle between 
Ordway, the Hampden of Lake City, and his enemy, 
the " boss," makes capital reading, and while one 
is not so sure that Kavanagh would have been 
defeated, we do not grudge the patriot his reward io 
the capture of the heroine's affections. 

9 9 9 

Miss Augusta Ayliffe has published a very useful 
and clever work, entitled TIME IS MONEY (Bloodworth 
and Pepworth, Dursley, 3s. 6d. net). The book aims 
at teaching languages to busy people, and " is in- 
tended for those persons who jump into the train and 
go half way round the world while the sleepy ones 
are thinking the matter over and studying a bit of 
French or Italian grammar before entertaining a 
thought of going on the Continent." Miss Ayliffe sets 
out the colloquialisms of the chief languages — 
English, French and Italian — notably avoiding the 
parrot-like iterations and mechanical observations of 
the stereotyped dialogue. One feature is noticeably 
valuable. " Time is Money " teaches the traveller to 
ask intelligibly for his food, and to understand the 
menu placed before him. The actual carte de jour 
of a French restaurant is reproduced, and simple but 
telling instructions offered on it The book should 
prove invaluable to all those who want to achieve 
a workable knowledge of French or Italian in the 
shortest possible time. 


Anglo-German Understanding Conference Report. (British Joint 

Boutroux, Emile. "Education and Ethics." (Williams and 

Norgate, 5s.) 
Byron, Mary. "A Voice from the Veld." (Dent, 23. 6d.) 
Drinkvvater. "Swinburne." (Dent, 53.) 
Gretton, R. H. "A Modem History of the English People." 

(Grant Richards, 7s. 6d.) 
Goldring, Douglas. "Dream Cities." (Fisher Unwin, 83. 6d.) 
■ Heine, Reginald L. "Dreams." (Dent, ss-) 
Hutton, Edward, "Ravenna." (Dent, los. 6d.) 
Jerrold, Laurence. "The French and the English." (Chapmati 

and Hall, 7s. 6d.) 
Le Bon, Gustave. "The Psychology of Revolution." (Fishet 

Unwin, los. 6d.) 
Neil, Rev. James. "Everyday Life in the Holy Land." (Cassell, 

7s. 6d.) 
Oppenheim, E. Phillips. "The Temptation of Tavernake." 

(Hodder and Stoughton, 6s.) 
Pugh, Edwin. "Punch and Judy." (Chapman and Hall, 6s.) 
Redmayne, P. Y. " The Gulf Between." (Wells Gardner, Darton 

and Co., 6s.) 


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I'.VnRV-VtAN', i-TvinAY, Al'KU, 23, rjii. 






For Chafaefer Sketch, seepage 40, 



JUsu.^5, 1913 



Portrait of Emile Vandervelde 33 

HUtory in the Makinj --Notes Of the Week 34 

The Lloyd George Cnuade. I —The Demand of the Able- 

boUied Worker— By P. W. Wilson 35 

Pncifism and Imperialiim- By Enrico Corradini 36 

Wind* of Doctrine By E. H 37 

Women at Work. IX. — The Domestic Servant^ By 

Mari,'aret Hamilton ... ... ... ... ... ■•■ 38 

The Moon-Path, roem— By E. W. Alexander 39 

Emile Vandervelde and the Belgian Strike — By Charles 

Sarolea 40 

1( the Human Brain Degenerating ? A Criticism of Mr. 

Bland— By A. M. S 41 

Masterpiece for the Week. The iCneid- By Prof. J. S. 

Phillimore ... 42 

April Gold. Poem— By A. Stanley 43 

The Poetry of Donne— By Prof. George Saintsbury 44 

Literary Notea 45 

The Kinema — By Dr. Percy Dearmer 46 

A Lay Sermon on the Art of Reading 48 

Caravan Days — By George Goodchild 49 

Correspondence — 

Enterprise in Business ~. ... 51 

The Abolition of the Working Classes 52 

Is the Human Brain Degenerating ? 54 

Whittier's Life and Work ^. 58 

Scottish Church History, 1690-1740 ~- 59 

Book* of the Week 60 



LORD ROBERTS' campaign of universal service 
. has been the topic of the week ; and while one 
party sees in him the honest instrument of a 
malignant plot and the other the heroic leader of a 
holy crusade, both agree in bearing tribute to the 
veteran soldier's patriotic devotion and singleness of 
purpose. " A simple-minded gentleman, as modest as 
he is brave, and entirely free from Jesuitry and 
disguise," says Mr. A. G. Gardiner, in the course of 
a characteristic indictment of what he calls the 
" adventure of conscription." " Nor is he a jingo. 
He has done more fighting than any man living, but 
he does not love fighting for its own sake. His defect 
as a general is that he is too humane, too sensitive to 
the suffering and misery of war." Over against this 
the headlines of a vigorous article in the Observer 
make interesting reading : " The Pilgrimage of Faith 
— Lord Roberts as a Revivalist — A People Sick of 
the Palsy — The Sword of the Lord and of Gideon." 
With regard to the probable effects of conscription 
upon our democracy, there is a similarly picturesque 
contrast of opinion. While one side declares that one 
of the objects of the universal service movement is 
the taming of a free democracy by the drill-sergeant, 
the other sees in conscription a great levelling force, 
and, indeed, the only remedy for the curse of caste — 
"a great University of life .... the beginning of 
true democracy in its social bearing, the first real 
antidote to that antipathy and friction of class which 
are tearing the vitals of the State." It would be 
interesting to trace this levelling influence in countries 
that have conscription — and more interesting than 
easy, one imagines. 

The fall of Adrianople has plunged Constantinople 
into a sombre and apprehensive mood, evoking not 

only expressions of bitter regret, but revealing an 
element of sober self-criticism which few suspected in 
the " terrible " Turk. And while such self-criticism 
may be traced in the Constantinople Press — the 
Tasviri Efkyar, for instance, frankly admits bad 
statesmanship in both external and internal affairs — it 
is mainly expressed by private individuals. Thus, a 
writer in the New York Literary Digest quotes an in- 
telligent Turk in Constantinople as giving utterance to 
the following shrewd diagnosis of the situation: "A 
blind man is in no greater danger than one who closes 
his eyes in face of vital facts. . . . We did not succeed 
because, before drawing our swords, we did not waken 
our mind and soul from the sleep of centuries. To 
lose provinces is to grow smaller on the map. This 
does not much frighten me. I am more afraid of 
growing smaller in mind and soul. The other day a 
friend was saying, ' How did it happen that we gave 
up that large Rumelia in ten days ? ' ' No, my simple- 
minded friend,' I said, ' not in ten days, not even in ten 
years, but centuries ago we began to give those lands 
back when we conquered and took them.' " The other 
side of the picture is given in an interesting interview 
with the Turkish Grand Vizier, reported in the Daily 
Telegraph. The Grand Vizier emphatically denied 
the assertion that the misfortunes of Turkey are due 
to the failure of the Young Turks to redeem their 
promises of reform. " If our ideal has not been realised 
up to the present," he said, " it is because all our best 
efforts have been paralysed by internal intrigues and 
external complications. To-day ... we are thoroughly 
decided to take in hand again the pursuit of our old 
ideal, and in the realisation of this work of salvation 
we shall not allow ourselves to be hindered by any 

The proclamation of the Chinese Government 
appointing April 27th to be observed by the Christian 
Churches throughout the eighteen provinces as a day 
of prayer for the new Republic, demonstrates how 
largely the revolution was influenced by distinctively 
Christian ideals. The question is a far wider one than 
that of the beneficence, or otherwise, of direct mis- 
sionary effort. Whatever view may be taken of the 
specifically " missionary " aspect of the case, it remains 
that the best mind of China — whether professedly 
Christian or anti-Christian— has been leavened witn 
ideals and aspirations imbibed largely at mission 
■schools, and that this official recognition of Christianity 
marks the birth of a new civilisation. 

South African agriculture has won a sensational 
victory over the drought-spectre. A " rainless " wheat 
— the Durum wheat of Italy — was grown successfully 
at Lichtenburg, in the dry belt of the Transvaal, with- 
out a single drop of rain falling upon it from seedtime 
to harvest. Thanks to numerous experimental "dry 
land stations," the old superstition of " no farm without 
a water-furrow " has been abandoned, and in each of 
the four provinces and Rhodesia thousands of acres of 
land, once considered valueless, are being exploited 
with excellent results. Another remarkable develop- 
ment is the extermination of locusts by means of 
poisoned grass, over which they cannot pass. At pre- 
sent the only locusts available in the Transvaal are in 
the natural history museum. Dr. Macdonald, of the 
Union Department of Agriculture, and one of the most 
competent exponents of the dry-farming movement, 
with its system of "moisture-saving fallows," is at 
present in England, and one may expect a diversion of, 
at any rate, part of the present stream of emigrants 
to South Africa, which bids fair to take ranl< as one 
of the richest farming countries in the world. 

AfBlL 23, I913 





They who so emptily assert that no man is indis- 
pensable, should be reminded that every man makes 
a difference. If at this moment Mr. Lloyd George 
(and his numerous biographers) were to be suddenly 
obliterated, someone or other — say Mr. Churchill or 
Mr. Herbert Samuel— would doubtless fill the 
vacuum at the Treasury. The Government would 
continue on its appointed way, and, not perhaps for 
years, would it dawn upon the philosophers that the 
most formidable agrarian revolt ever threatened 
against English feudalism had been scotched by fate. 
Everything for which a public man hves has been 
staked by Mr. Lloyd George, as a year or two will 
show, upon a Land, Housing and Wages Crusade of 
amazing audacity. He may triumph ; he may be 
annihilated, but either of these events must be classed 
as history. 

I am not concerned to deny the soft impeachment 
that for years past I have watched at close quarters 
the evolution of Liberal policy. But it is not as a 
blind defender, whether of parties or of statesmen, 
that I would here discuss the ec»nomic crisis with 
which the nation will be called upon to deal. All 
sides admit that the years 1884 to 1904 were in the 
main years of profound social slumber. Liberalism 
imposed death duties. Unionism established County 
Councils. Here and there minor adjustments were 
effected. But, as Mr. Chamberlaip perceived, the 
people were, in 1 902 and onwards, ripening for 
change. In 1906, Mr. Chamberlain's hne of advance 
— I say nothing of its merits — was, in fact, checked. 
For good or for ill. Liberalism secured the initiative. 
What followed? Let us see. 


I am not concerned with Imperial matters — the 
reorganisation of South Africa, the wrestling with 
Indian uneasiness, the German embroglio, Home 
Rule, the new army. I want to get at the funda- 
mental question, how far the condition of the people, 
of which Carlyle wrote m Chartist times, has been 
altered. We have read our Booth — our Masterman — • 
our Rowntree — our Webbs. Between 1906 and this 
day of grace, what has actually been done which 
makes a difference — a real and not a merely verbal 
difference — to the mean street, the deserted village? 
If I were writing a political pamphlet, I would point, 
perhaps with some legitimate pride, to old age pen- 
sions, feeding of some children, medical inspection 
and occasional school clinics, an extension of work- 
men's compensation, a court of criminal appeal, a 
White Slave Bill, any amount of industrial inspection, 
and, finally, insurance against sickness, and, in certain 
trades, against unemployment. I might add that 
some food taxes have been reduced, and also some 
income tax. Extra burdens have in the main been 
heaped upon the fairly rich. That is, broadly, the 
result of these seven years, as it is set out in Liberal 
literature. Things have also been assisted by a trade 
boom, which is as much due to China and South 
America as it is to Whitehall ; but' I am here only 
dealing with the conscioits action of the State. Why 
is it that this record, which — as set out by Mr. Asquith 
at any rate — looks creditable so far as it goes, has left 
the people restless, ready to down tools on the 
slightest provocation, seething with unfulfilled hopes? 


The reason is that statesmanship has been handling, 
not the normal human being, but the exception. Men 
and women over seventy years are a large class, but 
they are not the main body of the industrial army. 
A woman, at child-birth, deserves her thirty shillings ; 
but her life as a whole remains, broadly, unrelieved 
by the bounty. A man whose arm has been crippled 
by a machine is entitled to special money, but his case 
is, or ought to be, not one in a hundred. Children 
should be fed before they are taught ; but they are 
the future nation, not the nation that reads these 
words and goes on strike. The prostitute is another 
exception. So is the criminal. So, even in bad times, 
is the unemployed workman. What we are faced by 
to-day is the cry of the man who is neither aged nor 
a child, neither criminal nor diseased, neither injured 
nor out of work — ^who has wages, a home, brains, 
muscle, but who asks leave— /o live. This man reads 
of garden cities which he never sees, of drama which 
is beyond his purse, of dress and travel which are a 
mockery to him and his wife ; he reads of this, not in 
expensive newspapers, but in his halfpenny print ; in 
the magazines which he can see gratis at any free 
library ; in the very advertisements which face him 
when he enters a tramcar. The camera brings home 
to his mind the meaning of wealth, and Mr. Chiozza 
Money's statistics back up the pictorial appeal. 
Nothing that Parliament has yet accomplished touches 
this man's trouble, except indirectly. He does not 
consciously feel the relief of |d. off sugar and id. 
off tea. It is a long time before he will be seventy 
and get a pension. He doesn't want to be ill or a 
cripple in order to obtain benefit. He gets impatient 
with his trade union and its officials. Sometimes he 
swings towards tariffs. Sometimes he lets off steam 
at Brotherhood meetings. Sometimes he takes to 
Syndicalism. It is this man whose case is before the 
public. You may, of course, leave him to the play of 
economic forces, which is the way of the older Cob- 
denites and Mr. Harold Cox, only supplying the Poor 
Law or its newer substitutes as ambulance for the 
devil's hindmost. You may leave him to emigrate. 
But the first fact about Mr. Lloyd George and his 
crusade is that it abandons, definitely and for ever, 
the policy of laissez-faire in its last stronghold, the 
able-bodied workman's home. 

Next week I will deal with the minimum-wage 
movement for agriculture, and its assumed relation 
to housing ; while there may be a further opportunity 
for the delicate problem of site-value taxation. These 
subjects, and all the varied alternatives which this 
virgin territory for legislation offer, are now the 
absorbing, cumulative issue in British politics. 


The Editor of Everyman offers a prize of Two 
Guineas for the Best Essay on "The Woman 
Teacher— Her Life and Labour," the essay not to 
exceed 1,800 words. All entries for this competition- 
should be addressed to the 

Competition Editor, 

21, Royal Terrace, 

and must reach him not later than May ist. It is 
recommended that essays hz typewritten. 



ArElL 2i, tyij 



[OvE of the most sij;niricant and most ominous features 
in the international situation is the sudden rise of Imperial- 
ism in Italy. The war in Tripoli was only one of the symptoms 
of this nationalist movement. Other symptoms are the 
claims of Italy on the Ottoman coast, the anti-Austrian cam- 
paign, and the growth of militarism in the press. We pub- 
lish in this number a glorification of war by Signer Enrico 
Corradini, who is generally considered as the most brilliant 
exponent of the New Spirit, and as one of the leaders of 
Young Italy.] 

There are three kinds of pacifists. 

Firstly, those of the plutocracy, who oppose war 
because it is harmful to their interests. 

Secondly, Socialists, who oppose international war 
because it damages internal class-warfare. 

And thirdly, idealists, who oppose war because they 
believe in an ideal peace. 

Taken altogether, these three kinds of pacifists 
make no small stir. But, to begin with, the plutocrats 
should be excluded from the group, because, if it 
suited their interests, they would not hesitate to incite 
one-half of the human race to go to war with the 
other. They are not true advocates of peace, any 
more than are the Socialists, who, if they could, would 
turn the antagonism between one class and another 
within the State into civil war. 

There only remain the idealists, the honesty of 
whose intentions is as unsurpassed as is the feeble- 
ness of their argument. For they forget that the 
whole world, including men and human societies, is 
subject to natural laws, and can only act in conformity 
with those laws. And they forget that both peace 
and war — not peace alone, nor war alone — but both 
peace and war — are two of those laws to which human 
societies, peoples, and nations are subject. 

In a recently published work* I wrote as follows :— 

" Peace is the world's organising and conserving 
force. War is its quickening force, and these two 
forces work together in ways which, to any thoughtful 
man, suggest the hand of Providence. The world is 
kept in existence because it is being continually 
renewed, and the same is true of the individual. In 
fact, all living things continue to live because they are 
renewed. That is to say, all living things tend to 
decay and die, and are kept alive by a force which is 
constantly renewing them. This is true both of 
physical and social organisms, and war, whether it 
manifests itself as war or as revolution, is the force 
which revives our social organisms when, during a 
period of peace, which means a period of conservation 
and organisation, those organisms have tended to 
decay and die, and consequently have become, little 
by little, mere usurpers of the land in which they exist. 
They are usurpers because every nation ought to 
recognise that it has a duty towards its land — the 
supreme duty of being productive. Wars of conquest 
pour new life into a country, in so far as they drive 
out those who, in view of this ethical relationship 
between a country and its people, are usurpers, and 
establish in their place a productive race. 

" It is clear, then, that to the pacifists war is that 
destructive monster which we can all recognise, 
inasmuch as it destroys individual lives ; but that, on 
the other hand, when it is rightly understood as part 
of a greater scheme, it is seen to be a means of pre- 
servation. Peace, the organising and conserving 
force, and war, the renewing force, work together, I 

• "Sopia le vie del Xuovo Impero." Milan, Treves, igii. 

repeat, to preserve and continue all that ought to be 
preserved and continued. The one is essential to the 
other, and both together form that inexorable rhythm 
of peace and war which is the rhythm of life itself." 

During this year we have witnessed two wars 
which give admirable proof of the truth of this theory. 
I refer to the Italian war of conquest in Tripoh and to 
the Balkan war. 

As a result of her war Italy alienated the plutocratic 
pacifists of all nations, irritated her own pacifist sub- 
jects, the .Socialists, and was denounced by the idealist 
pacifists in some little congress in Switzerland, as 
usual, in the name of humanity, civihsation, progress, 
the hberty of the people, and so on. But, in reality, 
by making war on Turkey and by conquering Tripoli, 
Italy has accomplished a task, not only of advantage to 
herself, but of justice towards the world, and of advan- 
tage to the world. It was a supremely just act in 
accordance with natural laws. Italy has driven the 
Turk out of Africa, and has taken the Government of 
tlie Arabs into her own hands, and by doing so she has 
established a productive people on a productive soil, 
where before there were two peoples who had only 
succeeded in making their land as unproductive as 
they were themselves. Surely the Turks and the 
Arabs were the true destroyers of humanity, civilisa- 
tion, progress, and the liberties of the people, since 
they had for centuries shut out other productive people 
from the soil which they had themselves rendered 
barren ! Italy has given back to Africa the rights of 
a progressive people by making it possible for her to 
be productive. My contention is that Italy kas 
reinstated in Africa the just, the ethical relationship 
between the land and the people who inhabit it. That 
is to say, the relationship of a productive people to the 
soil. In other words, the day will come when Itahan 
Tripoli will be linked up with Enghsh Egypt and 
French Tunis, and when the whole southern shore of 
the Mediterranean will flourish with European vitality. 
Will pacifists be as loud then as they are now in their 
condemnation of Italy's war of conquest ? 

The pacifist's plan, leave Africa to the Arab and the 
Turk, and let us keep the peace, simply means an 
unproductive people and a barren soil, and that ends 
on the one hand in desert land and on the other in the 
extermination of the race, possibly after a period of 

The same is true of the Balkan war. The four 
Balkan allies are driving their unproductive Asiatic 
enemy out of Europe, and are thereby performing a 
just action, not merely as regards their own peoples, 
but as regards the human race in general. The war 
in Tripoli and the Balkan war are alike in their 
aim, which is to free Europe and Africa from the 
same enemy, whose very presence casts a bliglit upon 
the soil, and dries up the springs of life like a devastat- 
ing fire. The Mediterranean, encircled by the barren- 
ness of Islam, was a truly terrible sight in the eyes of 
the whole world. We have put an end to that barren- 
ness in Africa, and that is the justification of our war 
in Tripoli. Before very long that barrenness will 
have lost its hold on Europe. And that will be the 
justification of the Balkan "war. Then, finally, the 
Asiatic shore must also be set free. Thus, thanks to 
■war, productive activities will be reinstated in place of 
barren lethargy all round the Mediterranean, where 
they formerly flourished; tliat is to say, an ethical 

hint. IS, 191} 



r^ime will be established. I am sorry to have to 
point out to all lovers of peace that this can only be 
accomplished by war, and that it cannot be accom- 
plished in any other way. 

But pacifists may, if they choose, still prove that we 
are wrong and that they are right^that we are wrong 
in defending war in general, and the wars in Tripoli 
and in the Balkan States in particular, and that they 
are right in condemning the same. It is open to them 
to prove, but it must be seriously proved, that the same 
ends might be, and can be, attained by other means. 

But, so far, nothing has been found which can 
accomplish what war accomphshes ; it has not been 
found yet, and there is no immediate, nor even distant, 
prospect of its being found. Various means have been 
discovered, and have been hailed with delight, it is 
true, in theory, but, in practice, in real hfe, in dead 
earnest, not one. 

What of the Tribunal at the Hague? I will even 
go so far as to postulate ideal conditions for the 
Tribunal at the Hague. I will postulate a general 
desire for peace among mankind. That would cer- 
tainly put a stop to war, but it would not produce the 
results which are produced by war. And herein lies 
the subtle distinction. It was not merely a question 
of preventing war from breaking out between 
Italy and Turkey in Tripoli, but also of settling 
a productive people in Tripoli in place of the 
unproductive Turk. And the same applies to the 
Balkan peninsula. Is there any peaceful method of 
taking land from the nation to whom it belongs for 
the good of humanit}' ? I think not. Will there ever 
be ? I doubt it. And there will always be people who 
ought to be deprived of their land because there will 
always be people incapable of production, if only 
\from natural decadence. I am sorry to distress any 
advocate of peace, but it seems probable that, just as 
death is the immortal counterpart of life, so w ar is the 
immortal counterpart of peace. 


As the title suggests, this is not a systematic exposi- 
tion of current philosopliies, but a collection of popular 
critiques and appreciations, showing " the way of the 
wind " — and a " snell," easterly wind it is, with not a 
little of bleakness and salt in it — in a mind of singular 
acuteness and force. For many years colleague of 
the late William James at Harvard, Professor Santa- 
yana has watched the rise and fall of philosophical 
theories with .shrewd, appraising eyes, and his humour, 
while not unkindly as a whole, never lacks a subacid 

His latest book will appeal to a large circle of 
readers, for it treats of those " winds of doctrine " 
which, having swept through the schools, are now 
stirring drawing-room curtains and ruffling the gentle 
pools of after-dinner conversation. One remembers a 
recent magazine illustration representing an up-to- 
date Christmas dinner, and showing a lady in the act 
of leaving the room while the repast was still in full 
swing. Several guests expressed anxious solicitude, 
but were reassured by the lady's mother, who informed 
them that dear Beatrice had finished her nuts and 
health 'biscuits, and was now going upstairs to study 
Bergson and Nietzsche in her room. That lady is 
even more at home in America than here, and she — or 
rather the tendency she stands for— has a place in Dr. 
Santayana's penetrative diagnosis of the present philo- 
sophical situation. An age in which every man is his 

* ''Winds of Doctrine: Studies in Contemporarv Opinion." 
Ry Prof. G. Santayana.' 6s. net. (Messrs. J. M.' Dent and' 

own philosopher, and whose vague intuitions and 
vagrant moods aspire to the dignity of a " system," is 
bound to excite so stinging and sardonic a humour as 
that of our author, and his opening and closing chap- 
ters on " The Intellectual Temper of tjie Age " and on 
" The Genteel Tradition in American Philosophy " 
exhibit that humour somewhat at the expense of jus- 
tice. But possibly a more nicely balanced reading of 
the case would not hit the mark so closely as this merci- 
less and mordant critique. 

It is in his reading of the present state of Christian 
thought and progress that one is inclined to quarrel 
most seriously with Professor Santayana. When he 
tells us, for instance, that " even prelates and mission- 
aries are hardly sincere or conscious of an honest func- 
tion, save as they devote themselves to social work," 
he is saying something which had considerable justi- 
fication some years ago, when the so-called "institu- 
tional " Church threatened to swamp the Holy As- 
sembly, but which wears the air of a superannuated 
cliche in an age whose outstanding religious charac- 
teristic is a renascence of the spiritual and mystical. 
He manifests a similar myopia when he .sees the weak- 
ness of Modernism in its symbolical interpretation of 
"the deluge, the resurrection, and the Sacraments," 
and finds the strength of Christianity in a bald liter- 
alism. As a matter of fact, what kept Christianity 
alive, humanly speaking, through its darkest periods, 
was the mystical element in the Church, and the great 
Christian Mystics — who, be it remembered, were also 
the great practical philanthropists — always interpreted 
these things symbolically. It would be nearer the 
truth to say that Modernism has largely failed, not 
because it believes certain miracles and dogmas to be 
symbolic, but because it has not always belie\ed in the 
absolute spiritual reality of the things symbolised, 
tending rather to agree with Professor Santayana and 
assign to them only a relative and utilitarian signifi- 

The chapter on Bergson should not be missed by 
enthusiastic Bergsonians. Indeed, it is true of the 
whole of this book that it is those who most profoundly 
disagree with its author's conclusions that ought to 
read and ponder it most attentively. His critique of 
Bergson is vulnerable to a more thorough analysis, but 
as far as it goes it is acute and searching, and lays a 
sure finger upon the salient weaknesses of the new 
philosophy. Like most of Bergson's critics, he takes 
up the cudgels for intellect versus intuition, but one 
suspects all the time that he really denies the existence 
of intuition — that, in. fact, it has no place in his scheme 
of things. And one is inclined to find Berg.son's main 
weakness not so much in his exaltation of intuition 
over intellect as in his failure to demonstrate the 
reality of intuition in any other than the vaguely 
romantic or amateurishly occult sense in which the 
Boston young lady uses the term. It is noteworthy 
that Mr. Bertrand Russell's logical absolutism fares 
no better at Professor Santayana's hands than Berg- 
son's empiricism. 

One is tempted to quote from almost every page of 
this provocative — and, it must be confessed, provoking 
— book. It is packed with witty and penetrative 
things, and, granting Professor Santayana's postulate 
of the relati\ity of all values, it is as cogent a critique 
of modern thought-currents as could be compressed 
within its limit. As a castigation of the pragmatism 
that would exalt the private interests of man as an 
explanation of the universe, it has a tonic and astringent 
quality which should commend it to all thoughtful 
readers. Professor Santayana's style is a beguiiement, 
and comes to its full right m a delightful essav on' 
Shelley. E. H. 




WOMEN AT WORK By Margaret Hamilton 


The question of women's employment, with its attendant problems of the rate of wages, hours of 
labour, and the inevitable competition with men workers, is a burning one, affecting as it does the 
welfare of the entire community. The Editor invites his readers' views on this all-important subject. 

Of all branches of woman's employment there is none 
that has provoked such discussion and controversy as 
the condition of domestic ser\ants. Their faults, their 
failings, the way they dress, the way they ought to 
dress, has provided matter for newspaper corre- 
spondence and roused the interest and the antagonism 
of innumerable householders. At one time " fringes " 
were tabooed, a housemaid with curled hair was not 
permissible, a parlourmaid dressed in white on her 
Sunday out was regarded as a scandal, and a severe 
eye was kept on the costume of the cook. Nowadays 
this is altered ; domestics are given a free hand in the 
selection of their gowns, and mistresses are thankful 
if their maids do not too slavishly copy their confec- 
tions. In some households a girl is permitted to 
receive a friend on certain evenings, and the admission 
of a sweetheart, if the couple are engaged, is not 
denied Other families still strenuously enforce tlie 
conventual rule ; no intercourse with relatives or 
friends is allowed within their walls, and tlie suggestion 
of a "general" giving tea to the man she hopes to 
marry would inspire horror. 

There are, it is estimated, over two millions of female 
domestic servants in the United Kingdom. These 
include the smart parlourmaid with the French cap 
and muslin apron, the hardworking general servant, 
the Uttle lodging-house marchioness, and the army of 
cooks and housemaids. Under this heading also 
comes the charwoman — those migratory ladies of the 
broom and washtub who descend upon subiurban 
households and battle with brushes and pails. 

These figures do not take note of the small girls of 
ten years and upward who run errands, mind other 
people's babies, and perform odd jobs after school 
hours, or in the dinner-hour. The number of servants, 
however, by no means prove the popularity of 
domestic service. The number has steadily decreased 
of late years, the census returns of 1901 showing a far 
larger proportion. 

In the report of the Labour Department of the 
Board of Trade we find it stated that " among working 
girls there is a strong prejudice against service. Many 
owe this to a short experience as an overworked 
general servant, or else to the early experiences of 
their mothers or neighbours. Domestic service will 
probably be readjusted in many ways in the near 
future, but even now prejudice and the mistakes of 
the past have much to answer for in the present state 
of affairs, and it is difficult to see how this prejudice 
is to be overcome." 

The rate of wages has of late increased with the 
scarcity of the supply, and remembering that board, 
lodging, washing, and in many cases beer, is included, 
the scale of payment cannot be considered unsatis- 
factory'. " The result of the inquiry is to show that 
the average money wages of indoor servants in 
London are £17 i6s., £1^ los. in the rest of England 
and Wales, £iy 6s. in the three principal Scottish 
towns ; while it has not been found possible to obtain 
a return for Ireland." 

And nov.- let us inquire into the reasons that make 
for this distaste for service. Though the life of the 
lodging-house domestic is arduous, and the general 
servant has multifarious duties to perform, the con- 
ditions of employment are not, generally speaking. 

arduous or difficult The root cause of the dissatis- 
faction may be said, broadly, to rest on the curtail- 
ment of liberty, the loss of freedom, the sense that at 
no time during the day can the work be said to be 
done ! Other occupations call for laborious effort and 
ceaseless activity during waking hours, but there 
comes a time when the factory shuts, the shop puts 
up its shutters, the office closes. The domestic knows 
no such respite ; there is no space of time, from the 
moment the alarm-clock strikes in the morning till 
weary feet drag up the stairs at night, that she can 
call her own. 

Some mistresses, more considerate than others, 
make no objection if a girl sits down to needlework 
of an afternoon ; but the license is accorded as a 
favour, she has no " right " to take the leisure. She 
is, according to the bond, at the beck and call of her 
employer the day through. 

That domestics stay but a short time in situations 
nowadays, compared with their periods of service in 
former days, that the spirit of discontent and dis- 
satisfaction is rife amongst them, only emphasises the 
fact that this ear-marking of the hours of sunshine 
touches the very quick of the matter. Mistresses are 
prepared to increase wages, to lighten duties, but they 
will not permit recognised periods of leisure which 
their servants can employ as they see fit. 

Many are the devices that have been suggested, and 
tried, to solve the problem, and stem the stampede of 
women to callings more laborious and less fitted to 
feminine physique ; but there has yet to be discovered 
a system that touches the vexed question. Communal 
kitchens were hotly advocated some short time back. 
The advantages of one kitchen, one block of flats, was 
thoroughly emphasised, and, to my knowledge, a part 
of the experiment was carried out Two shifts of 
employees were engaged, working eight hours a day 
each, and commimal breakfasts were prepared and 
served at certain hours, as were luncheons, teas, and 
dinners. The plan, however, did not work. No. I, 
Albanian Mansions wanted underdone beef and baked 
potatoes ; No. 2 clamoured for boiled mutton and 
potatoes fried ; the flats immediately below insisted 
on vegetarian dietary; and the ground-floor tenants, 
being theatrical folk, outraged the entire block by 
ordering breakfast when most folks had afternoon tea ! 

The employees had as many and as contrary orders 
as if each one was separately retained by a different 
flat, and the purposed reform collapsed in ruins. The 
system, however, somewhat modified, is, we believe, 
worked with moderate success in certain Garden City 
Colonies, though here the communal kitchen is 
accompanied by a communal dining-hall, largely on 
the lines of a boarding-house or hotel. 

Attempts have also been made to work the " shift " 
system, whereby a servant is supplied for a certain 
number of hours, on application to an agency that 
guarantees efficiency. The results, however, have not 
proved satisfactory. Mary Ann appeared at seven in 
the morning and went at three in the afternoon, when 
another Abigail took her place. Next day it was on 
the cards that two entirely new and strange domestics 
invaded your premises, entirely ignorant of your 
fancies and dislikes. The expense proved much 
greater than that attached to the employment of 

Arsn. IS, ijij 



domestics on the ordinary scale, and ultimately the 
experiment collapsed in ignominious failure. 

The charwoman, however, has managed to solve the 
difhculty — from her point of view — of both hours and 
wages. Who has not suffered at the hands of the 
mysterious female who breaks your china, upsets the 
paraffin on your carpet, burns your chops and blackens 
your potatoes ? They inevitably possess an ailing 
relative, these ladies of the broom, who would appear 
to suffer from all the manifold diseases of the human 
frame, and the recitals of whose symptoms cause the 
charlady a certain melancholy joy. 

" Fits he has, ma'am," said a worthy woman of the 
name of Gamble, " and congestion somethink cruel, 
all along of his not domesticating of his food." 

She was a little woman, with a meek voice but 
ferocious will, and, having once entered the house, 
literally encamped there, being determined not to 
leave you "lonesome-like, with no one to work for 
you," and had eventually to be bribed to leave. They 
change but Httle with the passing of years. The 
bonnet of to-day is the same as years back, and the 
fashion of the many never changes. But the lady of 
the broom has been overshadowed since the Insurance 
Act became law, and, in some instances, they have 
been crowded out altogether. In the heyday of her 
prosperity, however, the charlady, at half a crovra a 
day, was inevitably mistress of the situation. She 
came at her own sweet will, and left when she was 
inclined to, though, to do her justice, she generally 
achieved to some very strenuous work. 

The more valuable her services, the more tyrannous 
her conduct, and this applies not only to the lady of 
the broom, but to domestics generally. The old- 
fashioned retainers, that nowadays seem to have died 
out, ruled their mistresses with a rod of iron, and their 
mantle has descended to the modern cook, who, if she 
be reproved even in the mildest manner, is liable to 
ruin the dinner, to justify herself with a burnt omelette 
or a watery stew. I have known young married 
women reduced to a pitiable condition of nervous 
agitation at the prospect of having to complain to a 
maid years her senior, who combined many good 
qualities with a strain of obstinacy that would not let 
her admit she was ever in the wrong. There is little 
or no prospect of a comfortable old age for the 
domestic. If she does not marry, but keeps in harness 
all her life, save in exceptional cases, there is little 
to hope for but the workhouse. In wealthy families, 
where good wages are paid, a girl is able to put by a 
certain portion of her earnings ; but it requires steady 
discipline to save out of ;£^i6 a year, and when the 
monthly holiday comes round there are many things 
to buy, and perhaps the old people at home to keep. 
Some few families pension off their staff, but the 
servants thus assisted form but a small number in a 
vast crowd. 

The Domestic Servants' Benevolent Institution is 
one of the few organisations that deal with this 
problem. Its objects are : (i) to grant pensions when 
past work ; (2) to assist domestic servants when out 
of situations through no fault of their own. 

The institution is assisted by gifts of money, but 
payments are required from members of the institu- 
tion. Which are within the reach of all classes of 
domestic servants, viz., from 4s. to gs. per annum, or 
life subscriptions from £;^ to £7. The amount of 
annuity paid is from £'15 to £2^. Members are not 
disqualified by marriage or change of occupation, and 
are admitted up to the age of fifty, if of good health. 

The majority of girls enter domestic service with 
little or no training but that supplied at home or 

at school. There are certain institutions that under- 
take to train young servants, but the fees in the 
majority of instances are prohibitive, and beginners 
have to rely on what they learn in their first 
place, supplemented by the scanty knowledge they 
gain in classes on cookery and domestic economy at 
the county schools. 

If a girl be anxious to learn, and is quick and ready, 
she can work her way up from small beginnings to a 
situation demanding a good sum. Parlourmaids are 
well paid, from ;£'20 up to as much as £35 in special 
cases, and in families where many visitors are received 
the " tips " form a considerable addition. The general 
servant varies as much in the amount she can com- 
mand as in the efficiency she can offer. It is an axiom 
that one good domestic is worth three, and that once 
you increase your staff from the original "general," 
you get less and less well served. 

The continuous demand prevents the problem of 
unemployment to any extent, though in cases where 
a girl has been out of a situation for some little time 
it is difficult for her to obtain another, more especially 
because, as a class, they do not save, but spend their 
wages very readily. The life does not afford great 
variety or colour, and " the evening out " that is usually 
allowed is eagerly looked forward to. It is noteworthy 
that, as a class, servants do not make economical or 
managing wives if they take husbands of the working 
class. They have been used to the administration of 
plentiful food and household stores of all descriptions, 
and are at a loss to deal efficiently with less profuse 
supplies. The charwoman variety is recruited from 
other employments besides domestic ser\-ice. They 
arrive at their empire of the broom by diverse routes. 
Some of them have been workers at a laundry, others 
found employment in factories of all descriptions, 
being often the flotsam and jetsam of industrial life. 
Some few spring from the lower middle class — wives 
and daughters of small tradesmen fallen on evil days — 
and yet a small percentage have once occupied posi- 
tions as housekeepers, cooks, having been well trained 
in their respective duties. 

Monotonous as the life perhaps is, and wearing as 
are the hours, the fact remains that domestic service 
is far better fitted, both to the physique and special 
characteristics of women, than other employrvients that 
necessitate separation from that atmosphere of home 
wherein the qualities of woman find their best expres- 
sion and encouragement 


Rises the moon, and on the distant line, 
Jagging the yellow-blue with serried edge, 
Trees, and a tall church-steeple-wedge, 
And a clock striking nine. 

Stands there a house, a mirror for her queen. 
Still mounts the moon and silent hangs aloft. 
Great, mellow, rounded, soft, 
And the air grows keen. 

Arching her path, she crosses, and the blue 
Yellows, and her face grows wanly pale. 
Night after night she tells the tale — 
She's telling it anew. 

Comes then the dawn, and snowflakes fall around ; 
Falls down the Lamp towards the bitter west. 
Rim is her race, and now to rest — 
The sun's above ground 1 

E. W. Alexander. 



Am!L 35, 1913 

BELGIAN STRIKE > > By Charles Sarolea 

Europe is following with rapt attention and anxious 
interest the vicissitudes of the tremendous struggle 
which is paralysing the industries of the most indus- 
trious and the most populous nation of the world. We 
are all wondering what might happen if, on the one 
hand, the whole army of Belgian workers were to be 
eventually mobilised, and if, on the other hand, the 
Conservative Government maintained its determination 
not to give in. A similar struggle some years ago led 
to armed conflict in the streets, and the last electoral 
reform was only obtained at tlie cost of civil war and 

There are many elements of danger in the present 
crisis, but there is one important safeguard, namely, 
the personality and statesmanship of the eminent 
Socialist leader, whose name is inscribed at the head 
of this page. Emile Vandervelde has steered the 
Belgian Socialists through many a difficulty in the 
past. It may be that the present difficulties may prove 
greater than any hitherto encountered. But there are 
many reasons to believe that once more his moral 
authority, his clear vision, his diplomatic skill- will 
prevail in the councils of his party. 


Twesty years ago I used to see a great deal of 
Vandervelde in Brussels. On one occasion, which 
proved to be historic, I had a sharp but courteous 
encounter with him at a stormy gathering at the Uni- 
versity of Brussels — a gathering which led to student 
riots, to the closing of the old Liberal University 
(which had committed the crime, unpardonable in 
Socialist eyes, of offering me its Chair of Philosophy), 
and which eventually led to the foundation of a rival 
Socialist University of which Vandervelde is still 
to-day the most brilliant ornament. In those early 
days, both Vandervelde and the party which he was 
already leading were young, and inspired with the 
extravagant hopes of youth. Electoral reform had 
just been granted. The Liberal party had been 
crushed, and there were many who prophesied that the 
Socialist party was going to take its place, and that, 
before five years were over, Vandervelde would be 
Prime Minister in a new Collectivist administration, 
and perhaps president of a regenerate Belgian 
Repubhc ! 

It is true that Vandervelde has fought many a battle 
against old King Leopold, but he is not yet President 
of a Belgian Republic! Pessimists might even con- 
tend that to-day it is the Socialist party that has 
become older, and that with the advent of King 
Albert it is the monarchy which has become rejuve- 
nated. Nor can it be said that there are many pros- 
pects of Vandervelde becoming Prime Minister in the 
immediate future, nor even of his becoming a Sociahst 
member in a Radical administration, like Millerand in 
France, and John Burns in England. The Conserva- 
tive Government has been at the helm for twenty-nine 
years, probably the longest lease of power ever 
granted to any party in the history of Parliamentary 
Government. And that Belgian Conservative Govern- 
ment may remain in power for many years to come ! 

And yet although Socialists have not become the 
governing party in Belgium, although Emile Vander- 

velde has not been asked to form or join any adminis- 
tration, no one would say that he has disappointed the 
expectations of those who, twenty years ago, cast his 
political horoscope, and who predicted a brilliant 
future for him. If he has not become Prime Minister 
of Belgium, he has become something greater. He 
has become, namely, one of the two or three control- 
ling forces in Continental Socialism, one of the com- 
manding personahties of the political world of to-day. 
He is a powerful speaker. He possesses in a 
supreme degree gifts which are generally mutually 
exclusive. He is a formidable debater in Parliament, 
and a magnificent platform orator, capable of swaying 
popular audiences. But, above all, he is one of the 
clearest brains in present-day politics. His books 
have influenced countless thousands. At International 
Congresses he is looked up to by " comrades " of 
every country, and his name is one to conjure with. 
Those who are acquainted with Continental Socialism 
from the inside, know that if Jaure? may be considered 
as the oratorical genius of the party, if Bebel has been 
its organising genius, Vandervelde is pre-eminently 
the controlling brain in the Socialist Triumvirate. 


The continued leadership of Emile Vandervelde in 
Belgian and International Socialism is a tribute not 
only to himself but to his followers, and compels us 
to revise all our preconceived notions on the relations 
between leaders and men in modem democracy. We 
are constantly being told that modern democracy is 
devoured by ignoble envy, and must necessarily be a 
leveller of all superiorities. Yet here we have poor 
and illiterate Belgian workmen giving their confidence 
and choosing for their chief, a man endowed with 
every one of the advantages of which they themselves 
are bereft, endowed with every superiority of wealth, 
of leisure, of intellectual gifts, and of social standing. 

Again, we are constantly told that a Socialist leader 
must needs be a demagogue, that his main function is 
to stir up the feehngs and the passions of the men. 
Yet here we have a leader who is, above all, a pure 
intellect, whose strength hes not on the hustings, but 
in the library, who never appeals to passion, and always 
appeals to argument, and zvhose policy for twenty 
years has been, not to inf.ame, but to educate, to 
moderate, and to restrain. 

When the history of the Belgian Labour Party 
comes to be written, it will appear that again and again 
Vandervelde has been the sobering influence, that 
again and again, but for him, civil war would have 
been let loose. Belgian Socialists may protest against 
that restraining policy, they may advocate a policy of 
" Thorough." They may grumble, as Napoleon's Old 
Guard would grumble: "ils grognaient mais ils 
suivaient toujours." Emile Vandervelde's Socialist 
Guard have grumbled, but for twenty years they have 
followed him. 

In the early nineties, when Emile Vandervelde was 
hailed as the Belgian Lassalle, I once took him to visit 
the veteran statesman, Frere-Orban, who was the 
Belgian Bismarck, or, rather, the Belgian Gladstone 
(and, in my opinion, a much bigger man than Glad- 
stone), who for more than half a century directed the 
fortunes of the Liberal party. Fr^re-Orban had just 

AniL ij, 191J 



been beaten in his own stronghold of Liege by Van- 
dervelde's Socialist friends, and the Grand Old Man 
had practically retired from politics. It was a curious 
meeting ; Frcre-Orban was contemptuously con- 
descending, Vandervelde was deferential and even 
respectful. Vandervelde wanted to argue, Frere- 
Orban refused to argue, and only shook his magnifi- 
cent Olympian head. On the issue of the meeting, I 
asked the statesman what he thought of his young 
adversary. Frire-Orban summed up his opinion in 
one phrase : " He is undoubtedly amazingly clever, but 
I do not trust him." 

It was the first time I heard the phrase. Since then 
I have heard it expressed again and again by Vander- 
velde's political opponents. Those who are acquainted 
with the Socialist leader know the unfairness of such a 
judgment. It is too absurd for discussion. No man 
has given more convincing and more continuous proofs 
of his disinterestedness and integrity, of his single- 
ness of purpose, of his lofty motives. Yet even absurd 
judgment must be explained. And the explanation in 
the present case can only be that, in the opinion of his 
opponents, Vandervelde is so amazingly clever that it 
seems inconceivable how he can have remained so long 
in the grip of so superhcial a political doctrine. He is so 
clear headed and cool headed that, in their opinion, he 
ought to have long ago disentangled the confusions of 
the Socialist fallacies. He is not a fanatic, and it 
seems as if only a fanatic could have remained the 
prisoner of so narrow a creed. 


A few weeks ago, Emile Vandervelde wrote in 
Everyman an incisive article on the Land Question. 
It is a characteristic example of his work. It shows 
both the strength and the weakness of the Belgian 
thinker. It is lucid. It is admirably informed. It 
states with scrupulous fairness the arguments on the 
other side. Yet somehow one feels that something 
essential is missing. It is true as far as it goes, but it 
does not go far enough, and especially it does not go 
deep enough, it does not go down to the bottom rock 
of human nature. 

Vandervelde's argument is generally restricted to 
economics, it seldom touches on ethics, except for his 
advocacy of temperance reform. It always enlightens 
us. It does not inspire us with enthusiasm. It does 
not touch the soul. He does not believe in the Gospel 
according to St. Mark. But he continues to believe in 
the Gospel according to St. Marx. He does not 
beheve in the elemental facts of human motive, of 
human instinct and aspiration, in the eternal verities 
of family or property, of poetry or religion. He, lil<e 
the naive and candid artisans of Belgium, still believes 
that the millions can only be made happy, and must 
infallibly be made happy, by Act of Parliament, by the 
virtue of manhood suffrage and womanhood suffrage, 
and by the automatic machinery of a State bureau- 



"The i priori method," says Mr. Bland, "is a per- 
fectly sound and safe method if carefully pursued." 
True, but the pity is that Mr. Bland has signally failed 
to observe his own maxim. The principal canon for 
the right use of the ^ priori method in such inquiries 
IS constantly to check your deductions by comparison 

with the facts, where facts are available. Now, de- 
spite Mr. Bland, there are facts by which we can test 
our conclusions in this matter, and a study of these 
facts would show that his argument is of questionable 

The fault of Mr. Bland's theory is that, if true, it 
proves too much. If we accept his reasoning, not only 
must we believe that the human brain is now deteriorat- 
ing, but that all the greatest brain-work of the world 
has been done in periods of brain-degeneracy. The 
eras of greatest and most fruitful intellectual activity 
— the age of Pericles, the Itahan Renaissance, the age 
of Elizabeth, the Teutonic Renaissance, the age of 
mechanical invention and scientific progress — have all 
been, times " when the struggle for life — actual, indi- 
vidual life — (had) ceased to be severe enough to ensure 
actual death to all those, and to the offspring of all 
those," who had not the advantage of superior brains. 
Hence, if we accept Mr. Bland's sweeping logic, the 
fruits of these great and spacious days are the pro- 
duct of brain-degeneracy ! 

The truth, surely, is not far to seek. In order that 
the higher activities of mind may arise at all, it is 
necessary that the crude struggle for hfe should be 
mitigated. So long as man's energies are absorbed 
in the endeavour to defend himself against the attacks 
of enemies, or in the constant, unremitting struggle to 
provide the means of sustaining life, no great intellec- 
tual advances are possible. Progress is infinitely 
slow, and is confined almost entirely to the means of 
supplying physical wants. It is only when man's con- 
quest of his environment has proceeded far enough to 
enable him to gather material resources sufficient to 
keep at arm's length the fierce struggle for hfe that the 
higher intellectual progress can begin. This applies 
not only to progress in the arts, science, literature, and 
philosophy, but even to those forms of material pro- 
gress in which the fruit of inventive abihty is reaped 
by Society rather than by the inventor. To this fact, 
namely, that many modern inventions cannot yield an 
immediate return to the individual inventors, as did the 
simple contrivances of Mr. Bland's primeval man, is 
due the frequently hard lot of the man of inventive 
talent which Mr. Bland laments, and which can only 
be remedied by an increase in that mutual aid and 
co-operation which he seems to deplore as tending to 
increase the number of persons of average or under- 
average ability. \ 

It is true that mutual aid gives the average man 
a better chance, but it is also true that many a 
child of genius has been as much indebted to it for 
the opportunity of reaching maturity as any vil- 
lage idiot For, despite Mr. Bland's rhetoric, the 
struggle for life is still keen enough to prevent many 
men of genius, whose genius is not of the money- 
making type, from securing not merely the easy-chairs 
of life, but the very means of subsistence, and without 
mutual aid the world would be robbed of the fruits of 
their genius. 

Mr. Bland proposes that Society should breed 
brains. When he can give us some evidence of the 
fitness of Society to undertake this task, it may be 
worth consideration. Would the most brilliant and 
conscientious "brain-breeder" have been able to 
select suitable .parents to beget the author of the 
"Contrat Social" and "Emile" ? Would he have 
seen in the Cockney ostler and his consumptive wife 
likely parents for the author of " Hyperion " ? Would 
he have recognised in Sir Timothy Shelley the future 
father of the author of " Alastor " ? Would he have 
fixed upon the author of the "Curiosities of Litera- 
ture " to beget the creator of the modern Conservative 
party ? I am afraid not A. M. S. 



'AMta 15, i«>T^ 


The u4iNEiD j* ^ j* By Prof. J. S. Phillimore 

Monarchies, new and old, need prestige, and the 
poets, to whose divine simplicity, as to that of good 
women and ol good priests, a certain snobbism belongs, 
have rarely tailed to supply the commissioned 
glamours. A sell-seeking despot like Cromwell could 
command the too facile or fanatical pens of Milton, 
Marvell, and the boy Dryden. When Octavian 
founded, almost unwittingly, the beneficent autocracy 
which we call the Roman Empire, he began, too, as a 
" Lord General." This title is the aptest translation 
that you could find for the word Imperator. He was 
in no sense an usurper, nor was he, like Cromwell, the 
too-powerful soldier of a new plutocracy, who, from 
being their bully, became their master : his monarchy 
meant protection for the poor against the rich. Even 
had Augustus, whose worst vices were a cold-blooded- 
ness which readily froze into cruelty and a quattro- 
cento recklessness, cynical and ferocious, on the sen- 
timental side, been as morally leprous with hypocrisy 
as Cromwell, yet a poet might be pardoned for 
idolising the prematurely wise head and the strong 
hand which gave Italy peace after three generations 
of civil war. And the poets were not of the old 
order, nor Roman born. If our Parliament Were 
abolished to-morrow, our literature would welcome 
the new regime — say, a strong popular monarchy — 
quite gaily, save for a few elegant philippics from the 
surviving Whigs whose family privileges would dis- 
appear. Literature maintains few long loyalties. 
And why, indeed, should an Apulian, an Umbrian, a 
Venetian, have many tears to spend on the fallen 
Senatorial Ohgarchy? The note of thankfulness, 
appeasement, and renascence which rings in all the 
Augustan poetry is no more a courtier's simulation 
than the holiday mood of 1660 in England. 

The national reconciling, consolidating tendency of 
Augustus's principate required for its panegyrist one 
in whom a proper sense of past, present, and future 
should be most rarely tempered. Mere antiquarian 
regrets, mere political modernism, mere windy 
idealism — none of these could furnish the man who 
was to express Rome as caput orbis, as fulchcrrima 
veriim, as the Mother City. And what an analogy 
leaps to Augustus and his work when we hear Virgil 
described in Pope's sentence : " Virgil's great judgment 
appears in putting things together ; and in his pick- 
ing gold out of the dnnghill of the old Roman 
writers" . Even such v/as Augustus's statesmanship. 
And, again, when Dryden says of Virgil that he has 
" all the majesty of a lawful prince," how he suggests 
the very service which the Augustan poets, and Virgil 
in chief, rendered sincerely to the new throne. 

When Propertius, already cognisant of the advance 
parts of " The ^Eneid," saluted the coming masterpiece 
in his famous lines : — 

"Room for the Roman I Room, you Greeks I 
For now a greater poet speaks ; 
Such verso shall now be born 
As puts Troy Tale to scorn" — 

he voiced a genuine enthusiasm of friendship and 
admiration, but perhaps also of relief. All the poets 
were so tired of hearing themselves invited to conse- 
crate the new regime in Epic, regardless of their par- 
ticular aptitudes for other literary forms. Here, at 
last, was A'irgil, who would acquit all the rest ! 

\'p\,-v iin- n poei: been challenged t'> ri=;r- to so great 

an occasion. Rome was renewing herself in peace 
under the wise and humane administration of one in 
whom (as Brunetiere says of Louis XIV.) the nation 
could recognise and admire its own best qualities 
typified. The language was just topping the edge of 
that plateau of perfection which runs along from 
Cicero to Augustine. Poetry had been brought by 
Catullus and Lucretius to that point just short of 
absolute technical mastery. The little surviving 
awkwardnesses seem to add a charm of self-uncon- 
sciousness and freshness, which maturity itself can 
hardly match : just the difference between the foliage 
of ]\Iay and the foliage of June. Historians and anti- 
quarians had been busy about the origins of Rome ; 
others had prepared the Trojan legend for the poet's 
hand, as old \'arro's homely, racy treatise had prepared 
for the Gcorgics. Now at last, now for the first time, 
it could truly be asserted that Latin workmanship in 
language was superior to Greek. The period of 200 
years' pupilage was over. The torch passed. 

It is a thrice-told tale how Virgil, on his deathbed, 
ordered his " .^Eneid " to be destroyed, and the Emperor 
overruled his instructions, charging the two executors 
to publish it as it was, with no more repointing than 
was needed to save the unfinished parts of the struc- 
ture from looking quite ruinous. The major part was 
already finished; some books had been read to 
Augustus years before. That Virgil should be so 
disgusted with the results of eleven years' labour as to 
wish it destroyed we may set down partly to his ex- 
treme fastidiousness, which required endless processes 
of reduction and refinement before the material 
should be passed as finished, and partly to his eager, 
curious, spiritual restlessness. " To change is to live," 
said Newman, " and to change often is to be perfect." 
A wonderful change is visible between Virgil's playful 
" Juvenilia " and " The .^Eneid." Only in a quite recent 
study has the real significance of Virgil's conversion 
from Epicureanism to a Stoico-Platonism been thrown 
into due relief. As Mr. Garrod (in " English Litera- 
ture and the Classics," Essay VI.) well observes, " It 
would startle us to learn that Milton was a Puritan 
in ' Paradise Lost ' and a Catholic in ' Paradise Re- 
gained.' We should feel that here was a fact of 
supreme importance for criticism. Well, the man who 
wrote ' The vEneid ' is a man who has undergone a 
conversion not much dissimilar to that which I am sup- 
posing for IMilton." 

Virgil's path had led him round such a curve that 
the experiences of a dozen years ago were grown un- 
true and unmeaning; liis mind had changed, and so 
had even his manner as an artist: his ear now dis- 
owned the music he had made in those bygone stages. 
What was finished of his great poem now stood for a 
dead self in which he took little interest. 

Of " The .^neid," more than most poems, it may be 
said that the best preparation for reading it is not to 
study its real or supposed origins, but to follow up the 
long and broad wake of glory which leads from us back 
to him, and on which Dante is the great measuring- 
point. If you cannot read both Dante and the Greek 
models which Virgil used, then rather read Dante and 
let the Greeks be. Approach him through Tenny- 
son, through Milton, through .Spenser, but, above all, 
approach him through Dryden. Dryden's " Discourse 
on Epick Poetry " is delightful for all reasons, but the 
singular charm of it is Dryden's frank confessions; 

AmiL J5, J913 



what beauties he recognised, and especially attempted, 
with better or worse success to his own thinking, to 
reproduce; and by what expedients. The humblest 
critic gets a better notion of an author's greatness by 
trying his hand at practice of the craft, on however 
small a scale, than by many readings. And when we 
have a great critic who is also a great poet we may 
learn secrets which the masters seldom betray. " / am 
the first Englishman," he says, "perhaps, ivho made it 
his design to copy him in his numbers, his choice of 
words, and his placing them for the sweetness of the 
sound." And again, " Taking all the materials of this 
divine author, I have endeavoured to make Virgil speak 
such English as he would himself have spoken, if he had 
been born in England and in this present age." 

This principle authorises a new translation as often 
as any great enough change befalls our language and 
the diction of poetry ; but, despite this, Dryden re- 
mains incomparably the best medium for those to taste 
him in who have not the Latin. For, though other 
modern versions may aim at more detailed exactness 
of rendering, Dryden alone carries the guns of a great 
poet : he alone has the force to compensate for weak- 
nesses by sometimes rising superior to his original ; 
and, above all, he alone congenially recognises the 
humour of Virgil. Were the Latin to be lost, Dryden's 
" Virgil " would remain a first-rate poem, and he would 
gain lustre by the advantage which Fitzgerald enjoys 
in his " Rubaiyat." 

And now let us survey in brief the enormous diffi- 
culties which challenged Virgil's skill in management. 
He must all the time be under fire of comparison with 
Homer, picking his way between " Iliad " and 
" Odyssey," sometimes translating, sometimes allud- 
ing, but never ignoring. In purely epical qualities 
nobody will rank him above Homer ; but he is richer 
than Homer by the measure of what the Attic drama 
had deduced from Homer. Indeed, the riches of 
Virgil is the quality in which he remains unrivalled. 
To expound him needs half a dozen different com- 
mentators — a Servius to explain the local, ritual, anti- 
quarian wealth of his Italian inheritance ; a Donatus 
to exhibit his greatness from the point of view of 
Rhetoric— and how many more ? You can take a de- 
lightful experience by reading Virgil merely for the 
sound, for the marvellous orchestration of vowels and 
consonants. R. L. Stevenson's paper on " Some 
Formal Elements of Style " will furnish the clue. But 
to return. Whether he really set himself consciously 
to portray Augustus in the feature of ^Eneas is doubt- 
ful. Without that his difficulty was great enough. 
Epic, when it reappeared after the great movement of 
Tragedy was over, was Romantic Epic. Jason and 
Medea beset his path. And yet he must make his 
hero, not a romantic adventurer, but a pioneer, a 
founder, a law-giver. 

Was Dido meant to be a prototype of Cleopatra? 
He confesses it to the initiated by the handshake 
of an echoed phrase. That analogy could hardly be 
escaped. He must, in any case, treat her as the be- 
guiling enchantress, the incarnate temptation of a 
mere private passion to deflect the chosen leader from 
his duty and his destiny. " The ladies," says Drj'den, 
will make a numerous party against JEneas for being 
false in love" And all the romantic sentiment which 
has belittled Virgil during the last century has centred 
upon his desertion of Dido. Mr. Garrod (in the paper 
already quoted) pleasantly contends that the subcon- 
scious Celt in " The Mantuan " forced him to put Dido 
in the right and ..^Lneas in the wrong, despite his pur- 
pose. So the Alexandrians would have said, for 
whom All for Love was a first principle, since they 
had neither creed nor country ; so said mediaeval and 

modern dilettantism, singing madrigals for the bower. 
But not so Virgil. For his yEneas (whether or no he 
is " a character of perfect virtue ") at least was not one 
who would sacrifice all for a passionate kgo'isme a 

But it was no light matter to make a religious hero 
into a hero of Epic. Nobody has succeeded with 
David, and there are points of contact between David 
and iEneas. Certainly the mere consecration of de- 
feat and failure (which Sophocles divined) gives us a 
bias for Homer's Hector and for X'irgil's Turnus, 
against which we have not the patriotic sympathy of 
a Greek for Achilles, and a Roman for Apneas, to put 
in counterpoise. The muse of Tragedy prefers St. 
Helene to the Tuileries; she triumphs in morally re- 
versing the verdict of fact. And thus far we are all 

To see that gorgeous episode of Dido in a true light 
we must go back to that simple remark of Servius, who 
says of Book IV., "The style is almost that of 
Comedy: and naturally so, for it deals with love." 
Does that strike you as cynical paradox ? If so, it is the 
measure of perversion in your attitude. A pathetic 
episode, but only an episode : for it concerns mere in- 
dividual passion, proper in private persons, but not in 
those who cannot call their lives their own, but are 
dedicated to a divine mission; not to one who is in 
Donatus's great phrase, " animum gercjis reipublicce 
necessariuni" i.e., has about him the mind without 
which the Republic cannot exist. 

The Christian ages were not mistaken in feeling 
that Virgil was instinct with potential Christianity. He 
gathered up in his poem all the riches of fullness of the 
old civilisation^ ready to be poured into a new channel 


Into the town, from heath and wold, 

The quickening winds are borne ; 
The meanest streets are paved with gold 

This golden April mom. 
The very rumble of the carts 

Is melody to-day, . 
And sunshine gilds the lowliest heart. 

Fashioned of London clay. 

The city sparrows' hungry din 

Takes on a rural note ; 
And wakes less hideous echoes in" 

A happier huckster's throat 
Forsaken babes that sprawl and dance. 

Less pitiful are seen : 
And daffodils from smiling France 

Still smile in Bethnal Green. 

Out here, beneath the Bridge, behold 

Where crept the sluggish Thames, 
A molten tide of sheerest gold 

Ablaze with flashing gems. 
With dazzled eyes we turn away, 

Elate and wondering. . . ^ 
Oh, God! To feel our hearts obev 

The alchemy of Spring. 

-Arthur Stanley. 



ArKiL 35, 1913 



There are some books of which it is at once the glory 
and the disadvantage that their full excellence can 
only be understood by experts, and of these Professor 
Gricrson's " Donne " is certainly one. The amount 
of pains which have been, and must have been, spent 
upon the book is only paralleled by the need that 
there was of the work being done. Although esti- 
mates of the positive value of Donne as a poet have 
varied very much, there has hardly been a time, even 
in tlic most unhkely period, when he has not attracted 
the admiration of tlie competent from the most 
curiously different points of view. Yet his text and 
canon have, without exception, been in the worst con- 
dition suffered by any great English writer. He 
would not apparently let us have any authentic printed 
form ; while at the same time his immense popularity 
and authority multiplied, beyond all reason and 
measure, those manuscript copies which are almost 
peculiar in their special kind to the earlier seventeenth 
century, and which compensate the benefit of preserv- 
ing things otlierwise likely to perish by the drawback 
of preserving them with the most irresponsible varia- 
tions, and not seldom with differences of attribution 
of the most bewildering character. Whether a certain 
poet wrote certain things, and, if he wrote them, in 
what form he most probably let them go forth, are 
questions which present themselves in the case of not 
a few seventeenth-century writers ; but in none are 
these questions of such importance, and in such a 
tangled condition, as in the case of Donne. 

With the problem, not of finally setthng all ques- 
tions concerned {that would need a doubly "meta- 
physical " aid), but of disentangling the tangle as 
much as possible, and setting things clearly before the 
student, Professor Grierson has busied himself. 
Having first dealt with the matter incidentally in the 
volume of a general history, Messrs. Blackwood's 
" Periods of European Literature," which dealt with 
the earlier seventeenth century, he was induced to 
tackle the text itself, both in its printed and its MS. 
forms. In one sense, of course, such a proceeding can 
never be final. Probability is the utmost that can be 
attained: and this probability will present itself dif- 
ferently to different students of the facts. But the 
important point is that, before Professor Grierson's 
work, it was impossible, not merely for ordinary lovers 
of poetry, but for professed students of it, to get at 
the facts themselves without an immense and (except 
■in the case of those who had time, money, sufficient 
equipment, and practised good will entirely at their 
own disposal) an impossible effort. We had more 
than one recent (or comparatively recent) edition of 
Donne which possessed merit, but none which aimed 
at presenting a full apparatus criticus as this does. 

A book of this kind divides itself, as naturally as 
some other things, into three parts. There are the 
editor's critical remarks, which, of course, are, like all 
critical remarks, for its readers to accept or not, as 
they choose ; but which have, as all critical remarks 
should have, an intrinsic interest and value. " Thus 
'A appeared to B." Then there is the estimation of 
genuineness, which, again, has a good deal of the per- 
sonal in its equation. No sensible person will ever 

: • Donne's Poetical Woris. Kdited by II. J. C. Grierson, 
iCb&lmers Professor of English Literature in the University of 
Aberdeen. Jwo vols. (Oxford: 1912.) 

weigh internal against certain kinds of external evi- 
dence ; but the extent to which strong internal 
evidence may be set against weak external, and the 
way in which internal evidence is to be estimated, will 
always be problematic. But here an editor may, if he 
takes the trouble, furnish inestimable assistance to 
everyone who comes after him by stating the facts of 
external evidence. And the value of such an edition 
rises still further under the third head. A text made 
out of the comparison of many different printed and 
manuscript sources can never, of course, acquire the 
satisfactory character of an autograph, or a book 
corrected and passed by the author. But if the sources 
are duly specified and critically arranged, if their 
various readings are properly classified and cata- 
logued, then everything is put into the student's 
hands ; he is admitted ad cundcm with the editor 
himself, and what he will do further is entirely within 
his own discretion in the way of acceptance, rejection, 
or alteration. 

It is long since any edition of an English poet has 
complied with the conditions indicated in the fore- 
going remarks as has this of Professor Grierson's. One 
may differ here and there with his criticisms ; may 
feel inclined to add or subtract, or apply somewhat 
different standards of authenticity from his ; may 
occasionally find a phrase or a fact at which it would 
be possible to cavil. For instance, he is, perhaps, not 
fully illuminative on the point when he says that 
Dryden, in applying for the first time the famous term 
" metaphysical " to Donne, meant only " philosophi- 
cal." Dryden, tliough perhaps a scholar rather at 
second hand, was a better one than is sometimes 
thought : and, as he has just pointedly contrasted 
Donne with the poets wlio confined themselves to 
"nature," it is clear that he used "metaphysical" in 
its proper original sense of " extra- " or " post- 
natitral." But this is the merest trifle. There remains 
the fact, already referred to, that, by the most curious 
consent of the most different persons, Donne is one of 
the most remarkable, of English poets. There 
remains, further, the fact that, according to some, he 
is one of the most strictly and purely poetical of these 
poets. There remains, thirdly, the fact that his text 
was in, perhaps, the worst condition. From this last 
state Professor Grierson has done more than all pre- 
vious editors put together to rescue it and him. There 
are some who think that a Professor of Literature 
cannot possibly be better engaged than on such work, 
which benefits not merely his immediate students, not 
merely the company of students all over tlie country, 
and, indeed, the world, but Literature itself. Such 
"unlocking of the word-hoard" (in a much better 
sense than the old one) may bring httle popularity and 
less profit in the vulgar sense. They may be stinted : 
" but not the praise." 


It has been decided to issue the Title-page and Index to Vol. 1. 
as a separate publication, which will be sent post free to any 
reader on application accompanied by 4d. in stamps. The first 
volume of Everyman' is now ready, handsomely bound in cloth, 
price 3s. 6d. net, carriage paid /,s. Cases for binding can be 
obtained at is. 6d. each, post free is. Sd. Xumerous applica- 
tions have already bi;en received, and all those desirous of 
obtaining the first of what should prove a long scries of inter- 
esting volumes should write at once to the Evekyman Publishing 
Dept., AldJne ilouse, Bedford Street, WC. 

Ana JS, iju 




Certainly there has been no hurry in the prepara- 
tion of the authorised biography of John Bright. That 
statesman died twenty-four years ago, and it is only 
now that his Life is announced as ready for pubhca- 
tion. I am not aware who is responsible for such 
dilatoriness, but it is in striking contrast to the expe- 
dition with which the monumental biography of 
Gladstone was got ready. The Liberal leader's death 
took place in 1898, and before the end of IQ03 Lord 
Morley's three bulky volumes were published. More- 
over, if I remember correctly. Lord Morley did not 
enter upon his biographical labours for a considerable 
period after the death of his subject, so that the con- 
trast is even more impressive than it seems. 

• • • « • 

There is this further to be said, that public interest 
in Bright has, for obvious reasons, appreciably de- 
chned during the long interval that has elapsed since 
his death. The whole political outlook has changed. 
Controversies in which he was most deeply concerned 
have either been settled or have ceased for some 
reason or other to interest us. To revive interest in 
him will therefore be no easy matter, but if any 
biographer is capable of doing this, it is Mr. G. M. 
Trevelyan, whose brilliant pen has made the per- 
sonality of Garibaldi and the causes for which he 
fought intensely real for those of us who came after 
the Itahan patriot's day. It is not often that a father 
and a son attain eminence as biographers, but this 
happens to be so in the case of Mr. Trevelyan, who is 
the son of the biographer of Macaulay. Mr. Trevel- 
yan's " Life of Bright " will be published by Messrs. 

Constable next month. 

• • • • • 

About a year ago a slender volume of poems was 
heralded by the critics as the work of one worthy of a 
distinctive place among the best of our modern 
singers. The author was Mr. Gilbert Thomas, a young 
man but just out of his teens, and the volume bore 
the title of " Birds of Passage." I am glad to note 
that we are to have a new volume from Mr. Thomas's 
pen. It will be entitled " The Wayside Altar," and 
will be published shortly by Messrs. Chapman and 
Hall. • • • * • 

I should have thought it rather risky to publish a 
three-volume biography of Lord Chancellor Hard- 
wicke at this time of day, but the Cambridge Press 
have had the courage. The work is entitled " The 
Life and Corres^ndence of Philip Yorke, Lord 
Chancellor Hardwicke," and the author is Mr. Philip 
C. Yorke, whom I take to be a descendant. The one 
thing that most people who are not lawyers remember 
about Lord Hardwicke is that he was an ally of 
Walpole, and that he abolished the notorious Fleet 
marriages. The sketch of him in Campbell's " Lives 
of the Lord Chancellor " is very inaccurate. As the 
present work is based on original papers and docu- 
ments illustrating both the career of Hardwicke him- 
self, and the whole history of the Georgian period 
from 1720 to 1764, it ought to be interesting. 

• • » « • 

The appearance in a revised and modernised form 
of " The Love Letters of a Worldly Woman " recalls 
a literary episode of some interest. The work was 
written some twenty years ago by Mrs. W. K. Clifford, 
the wife of the famous mathematician, and the 
authoress of many charming stories, and went imme- 
diately out of print. In America its success was even 
greater than on this side of the Atlantic, and there 
was a time when the book was sold at street corners. 

On the Continent it also had considerable vogue, espe- 
cially in France and Austria. With such phenomenal 
success the wonder is that the book was not reprinted. 
I cannot conceive of a publisher nowadays being so 
unmindful of his own interests. But whatever the 
reason, " The Love Letters of a Worldly Woman " is 
being given a new lease of life m Messrs. Constable's 
Pocket Edition Series. 

• • • • • 

I had occasion some time ago to remark upon the 
astonishing literary vitality of Mr. A. C. Benson. Only 

i the other week he gave us a delightful volume of 

\ essays entitled " Along the Road," and now he has 

j got another book ready, which Mr. Murray is to pub- 
hsh next month. It is called " Joyous Gard," and will 

I exhibit Mr. Benson once more in a contemplative 
mood. The book recommends " a studied quietness 
and a cheerful serenity of life " — a most excellent 

j gospel, but somewhat difficult to practise in these 

I hurry-scurrying days. 

I • • • • • 

I Sir Harry Johnston, whose interesting biography of 
! Livingstone many of us have been reading lately, is 
i publishing through the Cambridge Press a work in 
j which he propounds a system of phonetic spelling, 
I mainly in characters derived from the Latin alphabet. 
; Sir Harry has endea\oured to combine the best fea- 
j tures of the most noteworthy " Standard Alphabets " 
j of British, Anglo-Indian, French, and German authori- 
ties on phonetics, together with ideas of his own. 
1 Phonetic spelling is a subject which is coming more 
: and more to the front, and I shall be surprised if Sir 
' Harry Johnston's book does not contain plenty of 
material for reflection. 

« • • • • 

There has been but one English pope, and as the 
policy of the Curia precludes all hope of another, it 
is well that we should have a biography of Nicholas 
Breakspear, that remarkable Englishman, whose 
pontificate, bearing in mind the times in which he lived, 
did honour to himself and to the country to which he 
belonged. Messrs. Kegan Paul announce a Life of 
Adrian IV., from the pen of the Rev. Horace K. Mann, 
the last two volumes of whose " Lives of the Popes in 
the Early Middle Ages " are now in the press. 

• • • • • 

Messrs. Macmillan make the interesting annouhce- 
ment that they will issue next month the first three 
volumes of " The Imperial Edition of the Works of 
Gilbert Parker." The edition is to be completed in 
eighteen volumes, and will contain six long novels, 
ten short novels, and some seven volumes of short' 
stories, with one volume bf verse, which includes, in 
addition to a " Lover's Diary," published in 1 894, a 
collection of poems entitled " Embers," printed pri- 
vately, and not hitherto issued to the public. A 
number of stories, published serially, but never re- 
printed in volume form, will also be included. Sir 
Gilbert Parker has written a general introduction ttf. 
the whole edition, and a special introduction to^ 

each volume. 

» • « • • 

The same firm will also publish immediately the 
" Life of Octavia Hill as Told in her Letters," edited 
by her brother-in-law, Mr. C. Edmund Maurice. Miss 
Hill, who died only last year, is best remembered by 
her beneficent work among the London poor. In her 
early days she laboured under Maurice, and was sup" 
ported in her enterprises by Ruskin. The book ought 
to throw an interesting sidelight upon the conditionj 
of the homes of the London poor two generations ago.- 

X. Y. Z. 



ArRiL s5, 1913 

THE KINEMA ^ ^ ^ By Dr. Percy Dearmer 

A FEW weeks ago in Everyman I referred to pic- 
ture palaces, and hinted that neither word in this 
title was well applied. They are, indeed, not palaces, 
any more than they are amphitheatres or cathedrals, 
and the objects exhibited in them have not the dignity 
and beauty of a real picture. I doubt if kinemato- 
graph shows can ever be beautiful, and it would be a 
pity if people imagined they were developing a taste 
for art because they frequented exhibitions of this 
kind ; but none the less they may have a considerable 
scientific usefulness, and their educational function 
may prove to be very great. 

By the way, what are we to call these things? 
" Kinematograph " is impossible — one of those hope- 
less words which only our scientific barbarians can 
invent. " Living pictures " is two words, and there- 
fore will not live ; besides, they are not living pictures. 
Such titles as " theatre de luxe " are the mere vul- 
garity of advertisement. " Biograph " is not so bad, 
but it is rather flat. " Vitograph " is a horrid hybrid. 
Now, it is the general public that is always the best 
at finding names, and the people, if they succeed in 
throwing off the yoke of the pedants, always give us 
a good English word, which, though it may seem to 
begin as slang, may end in the poet's vocabulary. 
Such words are " tube " and " taxi," and I think in 
time we shall get over our prejudice against " phone " 
and " bike," and recognise that the genius of the Eng- 
lish tongue has not done ill to their Greek originals. 
Perhaps the public will end by coining some jesting 
word like " flictures " ; it may settle down into 
" kinnies," or it may be content to use three syllables 
and say " kinema." 

But if it does, I hope it will retain the proper 
spelling and pronunciation so far, and not tolerate 
the mispronunciation of "cinema." It is bad 
enough to have a useless and ambiguous letter 
like "c," but don't let us drag it into new words, 
where it has no excuse. Lastly, if the word is to be 
"kinema," we shall doubtless refuse (and rightly) to 
listen to the schoolmasters, and shall pronounce it 
" kinema," and not " kinema." The schoolmasters 
have mispronounced Latin and Greek too long for us 
to spoil what might be a decent English word at their 
behest. So kinema let it be, unless EVERYMAN will 
help with some better suggestions. 

But this has been a long digression. I was about 
to speak of the educational power of the kinema. It 
will not take the place of art, it will not take the place 
of books, it can never be a theatre, and the great 
educational work which lies before the drama of the 
future will be just as much needed as ever. But there 
are some things which the kinema only can do. Those 
wonderful films of African wild beasts now on view 
in Holbom are an example. How delightful it is for 
animal lovers to go into the forest to photograph 
instead of to shoot, to bring back a film instead of a 
skin ! " He is so fond of animals " used to mean that 
a man devoted his life to hunting and killing animals ; 
but now the real animal lover shows a far greater 
skill, patience, and courage by lying in wait through 
long nights and days in the lone places which the wild 
things haunt. And, after all, if Browning be right in 

thinking that the business of art is to make us see 
what before we have only looked at, the kinema will 
in some departments be accomplishing much the same 

But the main educational value of this new thing 
that is now spread all over the world is that it pro- 
vides a form of amusement which is always, to some 
extent, instructive, and which appeals to the un- 
learned, and to boys and girls, and to savages. It 
flourishes already among all the peoples of the earth ; 
it has spread to the smallest towns ; perhaps it will 
soon be as familiar an object even in villages as the 
public-house. It is becoming as universal as the inn, 
and a good deal cheaper. True, it will not produce 
the educated mind, any more than a newspaper can ; 
it will not take the place of mental training and dis- 
cipline, for it offers no discipline. But to those large 
sections of our population who have had little possi- 
bility of amusement except drinking, what a revolu- 
tion of opportunity does the kinema give ! It is not, 
to my mind, a very stirring form of amusement ; a 
httle of it, one would think, should go a long way ; 
and only when subjects of exceptional interest are on 
view is it very much worth while. But, at least, it 
makes no mental demands, and it is so cheap as to be 
within everyone's reach, and, as a matter of fact, 
people, and especially young people, do not seem to 
tire of it. 

Instead of drinking, instead of playing cards, 
instead of gambling or pitch-and-toss, instead of 
becoming cross because there is nothing to do, 
people have now an attractive alternative at hand. 
And that attractive alternative, though it does not 
provide mental disciphne, does generally leave the 
spectator with his mind a little widened, and often 
in possession of some bit of knowledge which he did 
not possess before. This is surely a great gain, and 
may make a real difference in the future of mankind. 
Instead of demoralising or merely time-wasting 
amusements, we have something which is on the side 
of education, and in some measure is a diffuser of 

I can well imagine the lecturer, teacher, and 
preacher finding a much greater educational value 
than this in the kinema. The teacher or lecturer 
always finds it difficult to make his audience realise 
what he tries to explain, and the gift of awakening 
the imagination of one's hearers can never be a 
common one. 

The preacher, too — how little his audience call 
up before their eyes the pictures which he is trying 
to describe to them! What an immense amount of 
talking goes on which is never understood at all, 
because it is so difficult to make anything clear, and 
so few in the audience really know anything, and 
so few speakers are endowed with magic! The 
kinema is helping, and it will help more in the future. 
If it is wisely controlled, and kept free from baseness, 
and used for beautiful and good ends, this wonderful 
invention may prove in its educational use a valuable 
asset for civilisation, as well as a powerful counter-i 
attraction to vacant, sensual, and demorahsing amuse-* 

^MIII. as. 'S'J 




Five applications for the services of each qualified Student. 

Commercial Careers for 'Varsity and Public School Men. 

We have been favoured by a copy 
of this interesting document, from 
which we learn that the past year 
has been by far the most prosperous 
in the history of the College. The 
unique distinctions of the Gold 
Medal and the Diploma of Honour 
for Secretarial and Commercial 
Training, awarded by the Jury of the 
Festival of Empire, igii, to 
Kensington College, have now 
been duplicated by the Manchester 
Winter Exhibition, 1912-13. 

Duning the first two months of 
term, an overwhelming number of 
applications was received for the 
services of Kensington College 
Graduates. Owing to the supply 
being unequal to the demand, it was 
only possible to partially satisfy it. 
Applications were for Resident 
Private Secretaries, some from 
Peeresses, one from an eminent 
Professor, other inquiries were 
from Clubs, Hospitals, well-known 
Journalists and Authors, and several 
from important City Companies. 

In order to cope with the demand, 
it has been necessary to advertise 
again in the public Press, inviting 
applications from ex-Students of the 
College desirous of improving their 
position, but, from their point of 
view, it is doubtless satisfactory 
to be able to state that prac- 
tically no response has been re- 
ceived; in fact, there is every 
reason to believe that not a 
single Graduate of Kensington Col- 
lege is un(f mplovcd, and further, 
that they have no wish to change 
their present satisfactory appoint- 

During recent years several Stu- 
dents have been sent from College 
to positions in England and abroad, 
some even as far away as Japan, 
where Kensington College Students 

have started an English Ladies' 

The question of Commercial 
Careers for 'Varsity and Public 
School men is now engaging public 
attention. The College has during 
Term been successful in securing 
for a 'Varsity man an introduction 
to an important position at a com- 
mencing salary of ;^I50, leading up 
to an Assistant Directorship at a 
salary of ;^500 and upwards. 

Kensington College is described 
by Sir Samuel Evans as "a progres- 
sive Institution." We may venture 
to go further and style it an educa- 
tional force that is probably doing 
more for the progress of English 
Commerce to-day than we can anti- 
cipate from armaments. Practical 
training for the practical duties of 
life is the keynote of all work at this 
powerful institution. So great is the 
demand for the services of its 
graduates that during the last 
twenty-six years — in fact, ever since 
it was established — every qualified 
student has had a choice of at least 
half a dozen dignified and remunera- 
tive appointments from which to 
select a congenial career; a striking 
testimony to the efficiency of the 
College training. The result of a 
recent investigation by the College 
Accountant shows that the applica- 
tions from employers for the services 
of the College Graduates exceeded 
the number of candidates available 
in the proportion of one hundred to 
fifteen. In other words, fifteen stu- 
dents had a choice of no fewer than 
one hundred appointments between 

A College with such a record com- 
mands the most serious considera- 
tion of everyone, and a knowledge 
of the secret of its success is a valu- 
able asset to all who are interested 
in the future of England's sons and 
daughters. The utterances of 

eminent men assist us to probe that 
secret. The Earl of Lytton, when 
the full facts about the College were 
before him, found expression for his 
surprise in the phrase, " Have every 
hope all ye who enter here," an anti- 
thetical variation of Dante's famous 
inscription. Lord Lytton 's words 
have been adopted as the motto of 
the College. A Knight of the Legion 
of Honour and an ex-President of 
the British Chamber of Commerce 
in Paris, when opening Winter 
Term recently, said, "As an Institu- 
tion for the training of our future 
business men and women Kensing- 
ton College stands first and fore- 
most.". Comment upon such pro- 
nouncements is superfluous; facts 
about the Institution which inspired 
them are more interesting and of 
greater value. 

Kensington College was estab- 
lished twenty-six years ' ago, and 
during the last few years it has been 
located a short distance west of Pad- 
dington Station, at the corner of 
Gloucester Terrace and Bishop's 
Road, one of the most fashionable 
and healthy parts of the Metropolis. 
These premises, opened by Her 
Grace Katharine Duchess of West- 
minster, stand in their own grounds, 
every window faces trees or com- 
mands a view of beautiful gardens- — 
an ideal situation for study. Modern 
languages hold a leading place 
among the subjects taught. Gratify- 
ing successes at the Examinations 
of the London Chamber of Com- 
merce, the Royal Society of Arts, 
and other public bodies, testify to 
the thoroughness of the training in 
all departments of the curriculum. 

The College watches over stu- 
dents' careers after they have left 
the Institution, assisting them to 
new appointments when necessary. 

The Director is ever ready to give 
his advice on the subject of a suit- 
able career for boy or girl person- 
ally or by post. 

A card addressed to Miss E. V. 
Munford, Secretary, Kensington 
College, 34, Gloucester Gardens, 
London, W., will bring by return 
of post an Easter Report, an Illus- 
trated Prospectus containing full 
particulars of the Guaranteed Ap- 
pointment System, and an Illus- 
trated Souvenir of the 21st anniver- 
sary, similar to those graciously 
accepted by Her Majesty Queen 
Alexandra, and Her Royal Highness 
Princess Louise Duchess of Argyll. 

Students are now being enrolled for next term in order of receipt of their application. 

Candidates desirous of Training under the only Gold Medal system extant, for a variety of appointments from 
which to select a congenial career, should write at once for Illustrated Prospectus and Souvenir, post free. 

Tel. No.: Pad. 4348. 

Mr. J. V. MUNFORD. F.R.CI.. M.R.S.A., Director, 

34. Gloucester Gardens (Comer of Bishop's Road). Hyde Park, W. 



ArUL >s, i»)] 



As was explained in the " Message of EVERYMAN," 
one of the main purposes of this new journal is to give 
practical guidance to every student in his reading and 
interpretation of the masterpieces of literature. 

It will be admitted that if it were really possible to 
give such practical guidance and helpful advice, if it 
were really possible to devise a simple and scientific 
method by which to develop our appreciation of what 
is best in world literature, it would repay our utmost 
efforts to master an instrument which would secure 
such invaluable results. For, after all, to acquire a 
critical judgment and appreciation of literature, to 
distinguish a good book from a bad, a great book from 
a mediocre one, must be the ultimate objett of all 
literary education and culture. Even with the most 
elaborate University machinery', and with the most 
abundant stores of learning, if we have not acquired 
such literary appreciation, we shall still remain un- 
cultivated and illiterate. On the contrary, even with- 
out any University apparatus and machinery, even if 
we had been debarred from all opportunities of a 
secondary or so-called higher education, and if, on the 
other hand, we have acquired the gift of literary appre- 
ciation, we shall thereby have achieved culture and 
education in the most real and vital sense of the word. 


Let us then take some representative work of fic- 
tion — for I shall restrict my analysis to the most 
prolific and the most universal form of contemporary 
literature — and let us approach some great novel both 
with a receptive and appreciative and with a dis- 
criminating and questioning mind. Before we can 
even attempt to formulate a competent judgment on 
that particular novel, it will be necessary to examine 
it in succession in every one of the following aspects : 
(i) The subject and substance of the book ; (2) the 
plot or the story (3) the style and language ; and (4) 
the characters. 

A. — The Subject.' 
Considering first the subject and substance, it is 
obvious that there must be vast differences between 
one book and another. 

(a) The subject may be trivial or it may be 
momentous, and the importance of the work must 
necessarily be estimated to some extent by the 
importance of the subject itself. You will probably 
find that the novels of Jane Austen, however perfect 
they may be as pictures of certain types of eighteenth- 
century English society, seldom touch the deeper 
side of human life. On the contrary, you will find 
novels like " Jane Eyre," like " Pere Goriot," like 
" Don Quixote," are concerned with all the deeper 
problems of human destiny. 

(b) Again, the subject may be either of transient 
or it may be of permanent interest. Thus the novels 
of Beaconsfield or Trollope are concerned with certain 
political or social conditions prevailing at a particular 
time, and their interest gradually vanishes and 
evaporates as the conditions which they describe are 
themselves passing away. On the contrary, novels 
like " Tom Jones," or " Crime and Punishment," or 
" War and Peace," are concerned with the eternal veri- 
ties, with the abiding element in humanity. 

(c) Or again, the subject may be treated in a spirit 
of human sympathy, it may be beneficent, inspiring, 

healthy, and health-giving ; tliat is to say, it will be, in 
the truest sense, moral. Or it may be treated in a 
cynical spirit, it may be morbid, depressing, demoralis- 
ing ; that is to say, it will be, in the truest sense, im- 
moral. Thus there is a vital difference between th«! 
healthy realism, let us say, of George Eliot or 
Dickens, and the debased view of human life which 
is the view of too many contemporary French novels 
of the Zola or the Maupassant type. 

B. — The Plot or the Story. 
Passing on to the treatment of the plot or story, 
again we shall have to answer very definite questions 
which must affect our judgment of the literary valu«; 
of a given novel. 

(a) There may be. either one plot or two, or many. 
Our interest will be either concentrated on one story, 
as in most classical works of art, or it will be diffused 
and dispersed over several stories. A duality or mul- 
tiplicity of plots may sometimes, though rarely, add to 
the literary value of a novel, as in " War and Peace," 
if the plots are correlated, if one plot is so used as to 
set the other into stronger relief. On the other hand, 
if there is no correlation between them, if our attention 
is continually distracted, the multiplicity of the plots 
must necessarily detract from the artistic value of the 

(b) The plot may be simple and natural and 
inevitable, or it may be artificial and far-fetched. 
Some of the most perfect masterpieces of world litera- 
ture have the simplest plot, and the maximum of effect 
is produced with the minimum of effort: thus in the 
novels of Jane Austen, George Eliot, or in the 
supreme Russian story-teller, Turgeniev. On the 
contrary, even a powerful masterpiece like " Les 
Miserables " is marred by the bewildering complica- 
tion or impossibility or improbability of the 

(c) Again, tlie story may either be skilfully or it may 
be clumsily constructed. It may be harmonious in all 
its parts, or it may be confused and chaotic. Events 
may develop logically, progressively, in rapid succes- 
sion ; the incidents may be ingeniously unfolded, and 
our interest may be kept in su.spense until the end. On 
the other hand, the story may be erratic and aimless, 
rambling and discursive, wandering from the main 
point, drawn out to inordinate length. We may fail 
to see the forest for the trees. 

(d) And, finally, the story of a novel may either 
exist for its own sake, and without any ulterior pur- 
pose, or the story may be kept in strict subordination 
to the study of character. There may only be a suc- 
cession of stirring episodes and romantic adventures, 
as in the novels of Dumas. Or the events may be so 
presented as to reveal human motive and character, 
and the plot, as in the novels of Sir Walter Scott, may 
be so constructed as to constantly bring out this action 
and reaction of character and circumstance. It is 
obvious that the latter plot, which subordinates inci- 
dent to character, stands on a much higher artistic 
plane. Whereas the novels of incident and adventure 
are only intended to amuse, to relax, and to while 
away an idle hour, the novel of character is pregnant 
with meaning ; it reveals the inmost secrets of the 
heart, teaches lessons of wisdom, and realises the ulti- 
mate purpose of art. 

{To be continued^ 

Anu. »s, 1913 



CARAVAN DAYS > ^ > By George Goodchild 

Those were happy days. How often have I sat in 
this darkened room and wished my feet could shdc 
backwards down the slope of time, that I might 
live again those glorious years, tread again those 
flower-strewn pathways, hear again the rattle of 
harness and the creak of the axle. 

There were many tears and many sorrows, but I 
lived in those days, and that is something. 

There were cold, cheerless winters, when the keen 
air bit at my finger-tips and set the blood tingling in 
my veins ; wet, miserable nights, when the ground was 
turned to slush and the water squelched in my boots. 
That the memory of those days should be so pleasant 
is not a little perplexing. I suspect that time has 
conjured with them in no small measure, garbed them 
with a mystical glory that never really was theirs — 
exaggerated the joys and almost forgotten the 

Jasper it is who shines brightest in my memory — 
Jasper and the things pertaining to him. Of the 
precise manner of his genesis into our camp I am still 
ignorant ; I was ill at the time. I have a hazy notion 
that he nursed me through my delirium, a nasty night- 
mare with drums and trumpets as its subject. There 
were always drums and trumpets, all over the ceiling 
and walls — trumpets of uncertain size, and drums that 
swelled and swelled and then diminished into nothing- 

Jasper I saw as through a mist. I knew it was not 
my father, because the hands placed on my forehead 
.were cooler than his could ever be. The face I could 
not see, because the optic portion of my brain refused 
a nearer focus than the opposite wall. At times my 
attendant Phantom would assume the most alarming 
proportions — grow so large that the whole caravan 
was filled with him, and I knew that if he got any 
bigger the walls must burst ; and then I would scream, 
and down would come the cool hand again on my fore- 

There came a time when his features took more 
definite form, and I saw him as he really was — a great, 
broad-shouldered man in the midway of life, with grey 
eyes and scholarly features ; no gipsy, that was obvious 
to me. 

He was pessimistic in temperament — the greatest 
pessimist I ever knew. Nothing pleased him. He 
viewed life through a distorting kaleidoscope, never 
seeing it as it really was, magnifying the bad and 
refusing to acknowledge the good; and yet he had 
ideals — that was the strangest thing about him. 
Meditating on this point, I arrived at the probable 
solution. Those same ideals were in part responsible 
for his pessimism. He had built them too high — so 
high that, on seeking to determine their exact lati- 
tude, he quite overlooked the materially beautiful. 

High up in the clouds they were — enveloped in a 
halo of uncertainty, but he never wished to drag them 
down, and that is why I loved him. 

Discussing the subject with me, he would smile 
whimsically, and say, " Never you have ideals, Chris. 
All your life is spent in the pursuit of a will-o'-the- 
wisp a<;ross the desert of time— never realising that if 
may «o/ be attained. Like the elusive tortoise of 
legendary fame, it has gone a little further when you 
arrive at where it was." Yet the things he spoke of 
,so disparagingly he strove to instil into my own mind. 
From him I learned to read and write, to decline Latin 
nouns, and to recite "The Iliad" from the original 
text. He would sit and talk to me of things beauti- 

ful—great pictures by men long dead, gigantic sym- 
phonies which lifted their tremulant voices in sweet 
concord ; sculpture by the ancient Greeks — statues by 
Praxiteles, whose marble limbs literally pulsated with 
life; and then he would damn the whole thing by 
some critical observation. 

I gave him little enough in return for these wonders. 
From me he learned to make clothes pegs, and cook- 
ing pots from sheet-tin and solder. He had little skill 
in these matters, and we would laugh at the products 
of his labour — fat, clumsy pegs and saucepans which 

The extent of our peregrinations was Bristol to 
Land's End. We traversed that glorious western 
coast year after year, always the same route, always 
the same camping ground. I see how beautiful were 
those journeys now that I take a retrospective glance. 
There were sweet flowers which grew wild along the 
hedgerows ; honeysuckle which exhaled its perfumed 
breath with delicious persistence ; foxgloves, a hundred 
on one tall stalk, shaking with silent laughter in the 
western wind^a tribute to creation. 

Sometimes the wind blew in from the sea, some- 
times from the land, but it was always good to breathe 
it and to feel its gentle pressure on the face. There 
were times when it blew hard — so hard that 1 thought 
the hair would go from my head — I never wore a cap, 
and Jasper would curse because the precious ashes 
would fly from his pipe. ' 

Late autumn — that was the best time, when the 
earth discarded her bright costume to take upon her 
broad shoulders more sober apparel. The days were 
shorter and the evenings longer ; there was less work 
to do — a great consideration to me, for I was always 

My father would retire early, but Jasper would 
scrape together the remaining ashes of the fire and 
begin to talk, at first intermittently, then in more de- 
finite strain. He spoke of subjects in endless variety, 
delved deep into the past, brought before my wonder- 
ing eyes processions of well-remembered ancients, 
whose hands wrought wonders when the world was 
younger, and whose deathless memorials mark epochs 
in the world's history. From Egypt I floated on wings 
of imagination to Persia ; thence to Greece, where he 
laid before me the panorama of its great history, in- 
stilled into my mind the beauty of its arts ; then sent 
me scuttling back over the centuries to more recent 
times, changing his theme as his mood dictated. He 
spoke of painting and music. On the latter subject he 
was particularly voluble. "Music hasn't begun yet, 
Chris," he whispered confidentially; "it never can 
begin while we restrict our tonal catalogue to some 
dozen octaves. 

" I have heard a bird's song pitched so high ehat the 
fiddle's top note were but bass to it ; sounds in nature 
so low that you might score ledger lines in dozens 
before you could fix their precise location. Can you 
conceive a sweeter symphony than a nightingale sing- 
ing to the whispering trees ? Your human creator of 
symphonies fixes his melody or theme, and then en-, 
deavours to weave around it an appropriate atmo-' 
sphere. The nightingale ignores everything save its 
own sweet carolling. The woods and the trees do the j 
rest, fixing a basis to the thing in their own incompar- 
able fashion — a natural symphony; and they must 
needs be concordant — the song and the atmosphere — 
because the one is part of the other." 

He kicked the fire into a blaze, lighted his pipe, and 
frowned. I knew he ^:as raking over the nasty things 



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in his mind, and was' prepared for an outburst It 

" Creation serves us a dirty trick, doesn't it, Chris, 
boy ? It sets our baby feet on this terrestrial sphere, 
allots to us a few weary years of existence, and then 
reveals to us, by means of indisputable tradition, that, 
be we not righteous^a quality in direct opposition to 
our natural inclinations — we must suflFer accordingly, 
never deeming it fit or proper to inquire if it be our 
pleasure to live at all." 

" But, Jasper," I ejaculated, " that is the argument 
of an unhealthy mind. There's plenty to live for. 
Haven't you sufficient ' joie de vivre ' ? " 

" ' Joie de vivre ' ! " he interrupted ; " a palatable 
lie — a skeleton parading itself as the spirit of con- 
tentedness. It never did exist, save in the lower 

Argument was useless in the face of his present 
mood, so I left him to find his own peace of mind, if 
that were possible. 

The autumn waned, and winter encroached on the 
land. Day by day we journeyed" south, down those 
long Devon lanes, now robbed of their summer glory 
— over those great rolling hills but lately clad with 
purple bloom. St. Ives was our destination. It was 
less cold. There we would localise our wanderings 
till spring came and went, and the swallow heralded 
the summer's return. 

So the years passed away. How many of them 
there may have been I cannot say, nor do I wish to 
ascertain. I would fain leave them as they are — 
shrouded with the cloak of delightful uncertainty. Of 
the' happenings they contain, only the happiest sur- 
vive, like holes in a black wall with the sun shining 

Bristol marks the crisis of events. We had struck 
our camp early in the morning — it was midsummer 
day. There was no wind, and the heat of the previous 
day still hung heavy in the air. We entered the town 
from the western side, and meandered along the High 
Street, Jasper driving and my father and I walking 
behind. It was yet early, and business had not com- 

From somewhere close at hand a bell struck the 
hour. I counted the slow beats, almost unconsciously. 
Eight! What a stifling day it would be. Already the 
heat was unbearable. 

On the curb two men were standing. I had seen 
them before ; for the life of me I could not think where. 

As we approached one whispered something to the 
other, and they stepped over to us. The caravan 
stopped, and Jasper descended from his seat, his facd 
deathly pale. 

They spoke in low tones, and I could not hear all 
that was said, but I gathered the crux of the matter 
from one dreadful word which fell on my ear — 

s : s ! I s 

I was put in the witness box and asked innumerable 
questions. What could I say, save that I knew him 
to be a good man — thaUl loved him better than my 
father? Shameless confession! Fearing lest any- 
thing I might say should prejudice his case, I made 
guarded replies to the questions asked, a useless pre- 
caution. Nothing could make any difference. He 
was found guilty on his own confession. 

He had committed the capital crime, and must pay 
the penalty — his own wife, too; but there were ex- 
tenuating circumstances, so they condemned him to 
penal servitude for hfe. 

He stood there in the dock — a murderer, a common 
felon. There was blood on his hands, and yet I cared 

Aran ii, 1913 



not. He was good to me, and I'm glad to have known 
him — glad to have been his friend. 

As they led him away he turned and looked at me — 
a look of unspeakable weariness that released the 
spring of my memory and sent my mind whirling back 
over the period of our friendship, and then I under- 
stood — understood his ever varying moods and wicked 

"Joie de vivre" — how he had mocked at those 
words. No wonder ! 


To the Editor of Everyman. 

Sir, — Your able article upon the question of Enter- 
prise in Business deals with only one omission in the 
Socialist argument. What of management, organisa- 
tion, industry, initiative, to say nothing of character, 
loyalty, and other individual merits, all of which are 
more or less essential to success in modern business 
practice? What is the corrosive irony of Mr. Wells 
or the scintillating wit of Mr. G. Bernard Shaw but so 
much stupidity to practical business men, who in most 
cases are equally alive to the present social and 
economic conditions? But the Socialism of the lead- 
ing propagandist never has, and never will, come 
to good business results. Why? Because its very 
essence is antagonistic to disciphne, and without dis- 
cipline all the essential qualities leading up to indivi- 
dual efforts are handicapped in the race for efficiency. 
It is the lack of discipline in every phase of juvenile 
life — especially the discipline of apprenticeship — 
which is largely responsible for the chaotic condition 
and helplessness of the working classes (so called) 

Why, the Scout movement, with its well-recognised 
assistance in character building, is openly tabooed by 
Socialists. The fact is that the moment Socialists give 
cognisance to discipline, Socialism simultaneously 
disappears. Your correspondent " Railway Worker " 
points to the Post Office as an instance of public 
ownership, but does he really look upon this institu- 
tion as an example of practical Socialism ? Such an 
idea is utterly absurd. Why, it is a very school of 
discipline from beginning to end, and discipline, I 
repeat, is incompatible with Socialism. Your corre- 
spondent should be a good judge of railway efficiency, 
but, surely, surely he cannot consistently claim that 
because there are general managers who have gradu- 
ated from the ranks that this is a triumph for 
Socialism. It is rather a triumph of individual effort — 
a virtue wholly inconsistent with Socialism. 

Then comes the usual reference to the co-operative 
movement in farming, etc. There is no doubt that 
the co-operative principle is successful to-day in farm- 
ing, and notably in the production of milk, and we 
shall very probably hear more of its success in due 
course ; but co-operative farming is not Socialism. In 
turning towards the industrial co-operative societies, 
from an employee's point of view, it can scarcely be 
argued that they have materially benefited by the 
movenfient, for, judging by resolutions passed by their 
union in conference recently, they are not so well off 
as the employees of private firms. But perhaps " Rail- 
way Worker " refers more especially to the dividend- 
paying successes of the societies ; if so, I hope he will 
not feel offended if I point out that they are not able 
to serve the public better (and often not so well) in 
the matter of value-giving as private traders, notwith- 



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standing the low wages paid to their employees. The 
success of the whole movement is almost entirely due 
to the "dividend idea," which gives the management 
a safe plan to work upon, and permits a large covering 
profit to be made, because competition is practically 
non-existent. "Who, then, pays for this privileged 
position ? " Why, its supporters, of course. The foU 
lowing little story is not without its bearing upon the 
point. A certain old lady called at the butchery de^ 
partment of a large co-operative store and asked if she 
could be supplied with a few bones for her dog. " Had 
they any ? " Certainly they had, and the bones were 
produced. " How much ? " queried the old lady. 
" Nothing," said the salesman. Whereupon the loyal 
co-operator sternly informed the salesman that she 
would report him to the society. " What for ? " 
gasped the man. " What for, indeed ! Why, because 
you have attempted to rob me of my dividend ! " 

You see the old lady was obsessed with an idea, as, 
indeed, many Socialists are, especially those who 
stand to some disadvantage in not coming into more 
practical touch with the actualities of business life, 
which teaches so thoroughly the fact that there is a 
world of difference between theory and practice. — I 
am, sir, etc., MANAGER FROM THE Ranks. 


To the Editor of Everyman. 

Sir, — In last week's issue " Railway Worker " com- 
mends the Post Office as a good example for private 
enterprise to imitate. This is strange advice for a 
worker to offer. Does he not know there are hun-< 
dreds of postal servants profoundly dissatisfied with 
their conditions of labour, and this notwithstanding 
the fact that the service is run at a considerable profit ? 
Every fair-minded man must admit that the efficiency 
of the Post Office is largely due to private enterprise. 
It seems to me that business enterprise is only possible 
under a capitalist system. The Socialist State would 
have to elect its railway managers, postal chiefs, and 
directors of men of all grades by public election. Now, 
we know from experience that the best men are not 
always chosen by this means. It often happens the 
most proficient and suitable men are cast aside with-" 
out any valid reason. This would happen in the 
Socialist State, with the result that men of business 
enterprise would have to be content to grovel while 
the incompetent would rule. — I am, sir, etc., 

Upper Tooting, S.W. INDIVIDUALIST. 

To the Editor of Everyman. 

Sir, — With regard to Mr. L. G. C. Money's article 
on " The Work that Must be Done " I don't quite 
follow his arguments and disagree with his dicta. The 
working classes he defines as " a most ungentlemanly 
institution." This reminds me of Sam Weller's story 
of the cook who called the cats'-meat man no gentle- 
man, and his retort that it was a self-evident proposi- 
tion. Mr. Money seems to cast aside altogether, or 
suppress, the fact that there is such a thing as brain 
labour as well as manual labour. Scholarships were 
never meant to be provided in order that the brightest 
youngsters might " cheerfully climb out of work into 
some soft-handed occupation." 

I am astonished that Mr. Money should be seeking 
in vain for a sight of the working classes. If he got 
up early enough in the morning he would find tram- 
loads of them, and, as to Kew Gardens on a Sunday, 
perhaps few of them are horticulturists. 

The parent, the "member of Parliament" who 

;Arr.iL 1$, 1913 



wTote to Mr. Money as to a career for his child, surely 
did not expect a career without hard work — a " genteel 
occupation." The middle classes, the trading classes, 
the professional classes, must work nowadays with 
their brains as hard — nay, harder — than the manual 
workers. They have no eight hours' regulations, no 
trade unions. The unions are crippling the good all- 
round manual workers. I have lived for twenty years 
in Jersey, in the Channel Islands. Here a carpenter 
is an all-round man, and can turn his hand to any 
branch of carpentering or joinery. In England a man 
is boycotted by his union, forsooth, if he steps out of 
his groove. All honour to the working classes, say I, 
only give them a free hand. Their life has its com- 
pensations. They have no appearances to keep up, 
and get their pay regularly. Let the middle classes 
do more of their own manual work. I am not above 
blacking a pair of boots, fetching water, and sawing 
logs for the fire. The present system of liigher educa- 
tion is wrong. Teach the lower classes reading, 
writing and arithmetic, and a trade. — I am, sir, etc., 
Jersey, April, 1913. ARTHUR HAILSTONE. 

To the Editor oj 

Sir, — It would, indeed, be presumption on my part 
if I attempted to criticise Mr. Chiozza Money's article 
on a subject of which he is such an experienced autho- 
rity. But, at the same time, as I realise the import- 
ance of the good equipment of, and good provision for, 
those engaged in producing the necessities of our 
everyday hfe, I should like to thoroughly understand 
his argument and the meaning of some of his remarks, 
..which to me, at any rate, appear somewhat illogical. 

Firstly, he mentions that many parents wish their 
children to have " the right to avoid hard work," and 
that there must be a large margin of persons " en- 
gaged in avoiding necessary labour altogether," and 
refers to " those who escape work." 

In each case the " hard work," " necessary labour," 
and " work " referred to is manual labour. 

Now, surely there is other work, and hard work, too, 
besides manual labour? Does a clerk do no work? 
'Am la" drone " because I don't mend roads or build 
houses ? If I want to build a house it is just as neces- 
sary to think how to build it and to draw the plan as it 
is to put one brick on top of another. Is not this 
also " Work that Must be Done " ? 

Secondly, he states " that every addition to the 
' classes ' . . . . means the performance of undue work 
by others," and also that the " classes," by avoiding 
manual labour, " leave for the labourers little more 
than a bare subsistence " ; and, again, the labouring 
boy asks himself, " Why pursue the excellent craft of 
joinery when it means poor pay and unemployment, 
while if you have a little common artfulness and care 
to exercise it, you can earn far more and be much more 
regularly employed in earning commissions ? " 

It naturally follows that if you overcrowd one class 
of ;yorkers from the ranks of another class the com- 
petition in the former class will increase, and conse- 
quently the wages will decrease, while the competition 
in the latter will decrease and the wages increase. In 
this way it follows that a scarcity of one class of 
workers is bound in time to adjust itself. Hov/, then, 
can you complain of men leaving the craft of joinery 
(which is evidently overcrowded, since it means poor 
pay and unemployment) to join the ranks of those 
earning commissions (which is evidently understocked 
in comparison with joinery, since you get better pay 
and are more regularly employed) ? 

Thirdly, the tubes are not for the working classes. 

How, then, is it that every one of the underground 


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Arui. 3j, 191] 

railways in London have workmen's trains running in 
the morning ? You may, of course, travel for hours in 
' the tubes without meeting labourers, if you choose the 
West-End tubes, and travel in the middle of the morn- 
ing or afternoon. It would surely be wiser to look for 
them at the factories or the docks at that time. 

Nor yet is Kew Gardens on a Sunday the rendez- 
vous of the labouring classes in their "dirty clothes." 
Few labourers live at Richmond or Kew, and Mr. 
Chiozza Money is not, I presume, advocating unneces- 
sary travelling on a Sunday. Victoria Park or South- 
wark Park should be, I imagine, a more hkely place. 

And, lastly, " boys and girls are not educated to fit 
them to be useful producers." I must point out that 
there are such institutions as industrial schools. I 
have not the statistics for the British Isles (save that 
in 1908-9 ;£^ 200,000 was spent on them), but in London 
alone there are already nine of these schools. These 
figures are, of course, very low when we consider our 
enormous population, but still it is a beginning, and 
shows that some, at least, realise the importance of 
such education. — I am^ sir, etc., 

Tulse Hill, S.W. Edward A. Roe. 

To the Editor of EVerym.\n. 

Sir, — In your current issue Mr. Chiozza Money 
suggests a uniform working day of five hours. May I 
ask. Would the same wage be given to both the honest 
and the dishonest worker? If so, what will become 
.of justice? If not, what will become of Mr. Money's 
prophecy as to the abolition of poverty? — I am, sir, 
etc., J. H. Profit. 

Leytonstone, N.E., April 12th, 1913. 

To the Editor oj Everyman. 

Sir, — I have been thinking over Mr. Chiozza 
Money's article, with this result: I ask myself how 
" The Work That Must Be Done " will ever get itself 
done unless there is a perfect army of inspectors to see 
that the workman, who is no longer a member of a 
class, but a free and independent being, does his task ; 
and I fear these inspectors will not be drawn from the 
most estimable classes of society. Honest men would 
not hke the job. Will lots be drawn, so that the most 
disagreeable jobs will not be thrust upon anyone with- 
out some show of justice? If a nobleman drew 
sewer work, would he be allowed to swop for a con- 
sideration ? 

Horace is never tired of telling us that the v,'ay to 
increase your wealth is to curb your desires. Care 
follows growing riches and the hunger for more. Are 
we really happier in the wearying pursuit of pleasure 
and racket and bustle of modern life? Is leisure 
worth having if we have never learnt how to employ 
it ? But your last issue points to the true remedy for 
our social ills in the sketch of Dr. Chalmers's work, 
which a regenerate Scotland may be expected to carry 
on in a spirit of truly national fellowship. — I am, sir, 
etc., Senex. 

To the Editor oJ Evervm.\n. 

Sir, — Mr. Chiozza Money appears to think that the 
sole object of leaving the mdustrial ranks is to avoid 
work, whereas, of course, it is to secure better pay. The 
community fixes the rate of remuneration according 
to the service rendered to itself and the rarity of the 
special kind of labour required. For instance, it will 
pay fabulous sums to the singer who possesses a voice 
that will charm more than any other, to the general 
iwho has the capacity to plan and the skill to win 
yictories, or to the administrator who can rule wisely 

and well, though, according to Mr. Money, none of 
these do any work that counts. 

The higher the civiUsation the greater the realisa-< 
tion of the fact that -head work is of more service to the 
race than hand work, and hence is worthy of larger 

Mr. Money includes transport workers amongst the 
producing class, but, according to his definition, it 
ought to be the horse or motor, rather than the man who 
directs the one or controls the other, that should receive 
the bigger pay, for it is surely he that has the " soft 
job " and the horse that does the effective work. Of 
course, the great fallacy of all those who, like Mr. 
Money, try to set class against class by extolling the 
manual worker and depreciating the brain worker is 
the artificial division of workers into two groups. No 
such separation is possible. Every hand worker must 
use his brain, and every head worker must use his 
hands. Only the greater the domination of the hands 
by the brain, the larger the service to the community 
of the work, and the more highly will it be paid. The 
skilled artisan deserves and receives more than the 
unskilled labourer, the organiser and controller of the 
works more than the clerk or messenger, who only 
does what he is told. The manufacturer is a producer 
just as truly as the minder of the loom, the farmer as 
the ploughman. All honest workers, whether they be 
labourers, artisans, clerks, merchants, manufacturers, 
farmers, lawyers, parsons, doctors, actors, authors, or 
statesmen, are producers, in that they either themselves 
aid in providing the necessaries of life or care for 
those who do. There are those who prey upon the 
workers, such as the financiers who make corners, the 
professional gamblers, the charlatans, the professional 
pohticians, e( hoc genus omne, who are not producers 
but destroyers, and who should be swept from the face 
of the earth. Wealth is unevenly distributed, and 
often unwisely spent, and officialdom is tending to 
absorb far too great a proportion of the national 
wealth ; but surely the remedy is to remove the abuses 
and not to aim at lowering the ideal of work. 

Finally, I would ask Mr. Money whether he expects 
the industrial workers to go to Kew Gardens on 
Sundays in their working clothes, or does he consider 
that there is some inherent distinction between the 
man or woman who works chiefly with his hands, or 
mainly with his brain, which makes it possible to 
recognise them as groups apart ? — I am, sir, etc., 

H. J. Campbell. 

To the Editor of Everym.^n. 

Sir, — To make us a nation of " half-timers " would 
be to make confusion worse confounded, for not only 
would it do away with much of the economy of time 
and labour that follows on specialisation, but it would 
inevitably result in the deterioration of all the higher 
kinds of work. — I am, sir, etc., H. J. CAMPBELL. 

April 13th, 1913. 

To the Editor oj Everyman. 

Sir, — The conclusion Mr. Bland arrives at is that 
human beings may be getting stronger, healthier, 
more cultured, better trained, more moral and com- 
punctious than they were in the past, but cleverer — 
assuredly, no. And why? Because man has ceased 
to be primitive. 

In the good old times a man had to be brainy. 

Unless specially gifted in this way he could not be 

sure of even the two dinners per week, and when a 

dainty morsel crossed his path a highly developed 

{Contin^'H on -page $6.) 

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AraiL-aj, 19XS 

faculty for making a quick lunch was desirable if the 
primitive inner man was to be saved from disappoint- 
ment. That extra and deeper brain convolution which 
enabled a man to stop a leak in the roof is necessarily 
a thing of tlie past. Nowadays he would probably 
get into trouble if caught on the roof, and his family 
would certainly be uneasy as to his mental condition. 

According to Mr. Bland's theory, one should have 
expected the hard lot of the curate and the clerk to 
give him some hope for the future. It is generally 
admitted they are two wretchedly paid men. I take 
it from the writer that they reproduce with astonish- 
ing rapidity and rear ovprflowing famihes. That 
being so, their struggle for bread, life, or existence, 
which, after all, amount to much the same thing, must 
be very real indeed. They must find it about as diffi- 
cult as did their primitive forefathers to make both 
ends meet. In the case of the clerk the quick -lunch 
proclivity even does not seem to have been quite 

Some people might feel inclined to point out to Mr. 
Bland quite notable examples of brain development 
within recent times — Edison, Kelvin, Lister, and Mar- 
coni, for example. But these, perhaps, do not exhibit 
that rich convolution of brain so much to be desired. 

After reading Mr. Bland's article one is convinced 
that the future hope of the world is not in man at all, 
but in that despised creature, the fox, which is prover- 
bially most cunning and resourceful, and has never 
weakened these attributes by trifling with culture or 
morality.— I am, sir, etc., P. D. MUNRO. 


To the Editor of Everyman. 

Sir, — Surely Mr. Hubert Bland, in his interesting 
article on the above subject, is unduly pessimistic? 
We have only to review the mental work of, say, the 
last hundred years to find his i priori conclusions 
unsupported by facts. The evidence would seem to 
point to a progressive rather than a retrogressive 
movement in brain development ; and, curiously 
enough, it is just in the matter of scientific inventive- 
ness that this progressive development is most marked. 
This comparatively short period has witnessed a 
wealth of inventive and creative genius that has pro- 
foundly modified our whole social life ; and this, too, 
without the impulse of the extinction alternative. 

Is the extinction alternative an essential incentive 
to the kind of brain development required by modern 
civilisation? The nature of the quest and struggle 
for food of primitive man did certainly foster a species 
of brain growth, but it was a species vastly inferior 
and wholly inadequate to meet the demands of modern 
conditions. In the struggle for existence the modern 
man has not merely to circumvent his neighbour, but 
his circumventing must be more complex and accom- 
modate itself to our improved notions of justice and 
humanity. While the primitive environment called 
for animal vitality and a certain level of intelligence, 
the modem environment demands of the would-be 
" survivor " not only a higher level of perceptual 
activity, but also of ideation and reflection. If the 
penalty of failure be less violent than formerly, it is 
at least unpleasant enough to make some "unfortu- 
nates " prefer self-extinction to a security of the bare 
necessities of life offered them by their now more 
humane brothers. 

As Mr. Bland rightly points out, modernly regarded, 
the phrase " struggle for life " is a misnomer. It is 
not now so much a struggle for life as a struggle for the 
fullest life — or, as he himself puts it, " a scramble for 
easy-chairs." But this " scramble " is by no means the 

easy and comfortable process he would have us be- 
lieve. One has only to turn one's hand to scientific 
invention or any of the professions or arts to quickly 
discover how much has already been done and how 
much brain capacity is needed if it is to be of the 
smallest " survival " value. 

It is true that in this ill-orderpd world fortunes some- 
times go by favour rather than by merit ; but it is by 
no means the majority who are able to evade the rigid 
and inflexible. test of economic law. 

But, if Mr. Bland's diagnosis is faulty, is not his 
remedy even more so ? Granting his dismal conclu- 
sions, how can he hope for mentally or physically pro- 
fitable results from unions in which the proper sex 
affinity is absent? Since, as he himself admits, men 
of conspicuous mental endowments almost invariably 
prefer to marry women intellectually inferior, how is 
the scientific brain culturist to overcome the difficulty? 
The treatment in the case of the lower animals is 
scarcely applicable here, since, broadly speaking, they 
are less exclusive, sexually, than man — less exclusive 
because the mind factor is less complex. — I am, sir, 
etc., F. C. Cattell. 

London, N, , 

To the Editor of EvERyMAN. 

Sir, — In your excellent number of April i ith there 
is one article which irritates me no less than it makes 
me think. I refer to Mr. Hubert Bland's " Is the 
Human Brain Degenerating ? " I thank Mr. Bland 
for making me think, but I do tliank him for 
irritating me. 

His whole argument seems to hang on this, that 
brain degeneration is identical with social deteriora- 
tion. Now, I agree vrith him in making such an iden- 
tity, but I do not believe that he has given the proper 
value to each of his terms. According to him, if we 
have no life " push," that must necessarily imply a col- 
lective quantity of uncreative brain tissue, and vice 

First of all, in connection with his sigh for more 
creative capacity in brain power, Mr. Bland is a be- 
liever in natural selection, and yet he bemoans educa- 
tion as a factor in demolishing such selection. In this 
I entirely disagree. Through the whole of our 
modern education there is a growing passion for more 
definite specialisation. And what is specialisation but 
an outrageous form of natural selection? But more 
important still, is not this lust for excelling in one par- 
ticular branch 'of learning exactly the state of mind 
conducive to creative results? Nowadays, it would 
appear, we must learn to find the world in a little divi- 
sion of its labour. 

Secondly, Mr. Bland does not give a true meaning 
to progress. Does it not strike us all that we are get- 
ting past the days — thank heaven ! — of selfish strife for 
daily existence, nonsensical strife for the mere plea- 
sure of striving? As the writer points out, we have 
still a great deal of it. But why wish for more ? In 
this great age of medicine those are not true optimists 
who cry, " The weak to the wall ! Let us get back to 
the pagan period ! " No, this is a new age, and I, for 
one, cannot believe with Mr. Bland that it is not an 
advanced age. It is, above all, an age of depth. We 
have never been so near the heart of things before, 
both scientifically and morally. I have dealt with the 
former of these ; what of the latter ? 

Mr. Bland is unpoetic. We do not wish our youth 
to be so very sharp and self-centred. We want them 
to be broad-minded, healthy, and righteous. Away 
with groveUing cleverness ! Lead our children to the 

(Coiitinutd OH fa^e 58.) 

ArsiL 35, 1913 




By W. Aston Baslake 

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at the expense of much bitter disappointment and 
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Their example need not, however, deter the aspirant 
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the reasons for prehminary failure be summarised and 
analysed, it will be found that in the majority of 
cases they are the same. That is to say that one man 
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stars ; give them a glimpse of God's immensities, and 
there will be plenty of life push ! 

To-day the concentrated, creative force of each unit 
is focussed on the perfecting of a small part in the 
complex whole, and in this we truly progress — those 
of us (and there are not so few, Mr. Bland) who use 
our brains at all. — I am, sir, etc., 

April 1 2th, 1913. John D'Aschennan. 

To the Editor of 

Sir, — It is hard to take the article under the above 
heading seriously ; at the same time, I think it should 
not be allowed to pass unchallenged, even at the risk 
of being classed by Mr. Bland as an "average, 
uninstructed person." 

Mr. Bland's main hypothesis is that the brain can- 
not improve except as the result of the daily fear of 

Surely this is a false hypothesis, and cannot pos- 
sibly be accepted by anyone who considers the change 
that has taken place in the world during the last cen- 
tury. Besides, have the present rush and feverish 
anxiety in the competition of business which we see 
ruining the health of so many of the weaker of our 
business men no place in the development of the brain ? 
Is the rivalry amongst inventors in striving to conquer 
the air and evolving marvellous machinery of all pos- 
sible kinds of no value? 

Again, let us take Mr. Bland's word-picture, in which 
he so vividly portrays our forefathers engaged in 
developing their brain capacity, and incidentally ours, 
to which process Mr. Bland is so anxious, I suppose, 
we should resort. I believe it is firmly estabHshed 
that in those days the human skull was shallow and 
incapable of containing the average brain of the day. 
Also I believe I am right in asserting that, according 
to the latest views on the subject, the size of the skull 
must have increased before the brain capacity in- 
creased. I think it is fair to assume that the converse 
is true, and that as the brain " degenerates " so would 
the skull become shallower. Is this so? I am glad 
to think the evidence on this point is against Mr. 
Bland. I notice that Mr. Bland mentions that when 
our forefathers were developing their brain capacity 
" dinner was an affair of every three days or so." This 
suggests the awful thought that some of our more far- 
seeing Suffragettes may be stealing a march on us 

I am glad to say I am an optimist as regards the 
progress of man and the world, and am inclined to 
think that opinions such as Mr. Bland expresses may, 
if not checked, easily become the " father to the fact." 
— I am^ sir, etc., ' J. H. TAYLOR. 

Southsea, J» J» J» 


The writer of this book beheves that Whittier's career 
is not known in this country, and she is hopeful that 
her brief sketch may lead to a deeper appreciation of 
his poems. The aim is laudable, but, in order to be 
entirely successful, the authoress would have required 
to have approached her subject in a more critical 
spirit. She says: "Any criticism accentuating 'cul- 
tured fastidiousness ' finds no place in the purpose of 
this biography." That is rather an unfortunate re- 
mark, for it is difficult to see how the book is to in- 
crease the number of admirers of Whittier's poetry if 
the exercise of the critical faculty is withheld. ' 

* "John Greenleaf Whittier : His Life and Work. 
Georgioa King Lewis. 3s. 6d, net. (Headley./ 


ArRiL 35, 1913 



Manifestly, a book which is intended to appeal to 
those who don't know Whittier ought to have sedu- 
lously avoided anything in the nature of a panegyric. 
But this is precisely the line the autlioress has taken. 
Instead of providing the reader with a careful esti- 
mate of Whittier, exhibiting his weak as well as his 
strong points, she, for the most part, contents herself 
with serving up the opinions of a number of Whittier's 

But while the book cannot claim to have critical 
value nor even literary distinction, it furnishes a 
gossipy narrative, recounting the main facts of Whit- 
tier's life accurately and intelligently. There are also 
numerous selectiqns from his poetry and his corre- 
spondence. Much space is given to his friendship with 
Lloyd Garrison, and we are afforded interesting 
glimpses of WTiittier's long and stern battle against 
the foes of emancipation. With the poet's religious 
views Miss Lewis is thoroughly in sympathy. It is in 
portraying this side of his character that she is most 
successful. And that is no small gain, for, after all, 
religion was the impelling force of Whittier's being. 

The influence of his Quaker birth and upbringing 
was manifest in all he did and in all he wrote. Miss 
Lewis is on unassailable ground when she says : — 

"Whittier was a mystic and a seer. The invisible world 
was the influence of his hfe; the spiritual world the reality. 
Life was one beautiful whole; no hard and fast division of 
secular and sacred troubled him. The fruit of the spirit 
could grow out of every action : every meal was a sacrament, 
every place was holy, every human being could be the temple 
of the Holy Ghost." 

For frontispiece there is a photogravure of the poet. 
There are also illustrations of the Old Homestead at 

1 690- 1 740 

This is a book which it is not easy to review either 
fairly or coherently. It purports to be an account of 
the twenty-seven ministers of the Church of Scotland 
who were Moderators of the General Assembly be- 
tween 1690 and 1740. With the notable exception 
of Carstares, not one of these Moderators has pre- 
viously been made the subject of special study. Their 
history is exceedingly obscure, and can only be pieced 
together, and that in a fragmentary way, after much 
laborious burrowing among musty volumes, pamphlets, 
and documents. 

In order, therefore, to review this book adequately, 
one would require to do what Mr. Warrick has evi- 
dently done— expend an enormous amount of time 
and labour in gleaning facts from rare authorities. 
Needless to say, we have not attempted so stupendous 
a task ; but we have been able, nevertheless, to 
traverse a portion of the ground, and have, of course, 
scrutinised the sketch of Carstares, of whom an excel- 
lent biography exists by his descendant, the late Prin- 
cipal Story. The result of these investigations tends 
to show that Mr. Warrick's knowledge of the period 
is not only extensive, but amazingly exact. Some of 
his portraits are shadowy, as indeed they were almost 
bound to be, but the majority, thanks to his industry 
and enthusiasm, are skilfully and vividly drawn. He 
has produced a book which fully maintains the best 
traditions of .Scottish ecclesiastical scholarship. 

Was it worth while, it may be asked, to chronicle 
the sayings and doings of these Moderators, all of 
whom, with one exception, are unknown to fame .' Mr. 

* "The Moderators of the Church of .Scotland from 1690 to 
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Warrick anticipates the question and, as we think, coii- 
clusively answers it. The fifty years covered by this 
book was a period of transition. It was devoid of 
the glamour and interest which marked earlier and 
later epochs, and possibly on that account has re- 
ceived less attention. But no one can hope to master 
fully the subsequent history of the Church of Scotland 
without understanding the forces at work between" 
1690 and 1740, and of the men who controlled them. 

In 1690, as Mr. Warrick observes in an admirable 
introduction, the Covenanting period was over. Pres- 
byterianism had regained its place and power ; and it is 
the chief claim to remembrance on the part of most of 
the Moderators whose careers are here narrated that 
they materially assisted in rooting the Scottish Church 
more firmly than ever in the affections of the people. 
The year 1740, on the other hand, witnessed the suc- 
cessful inauguration of the Seceder movement and the 
rise of the Moderates. 

Many conflicting views prevail regarding the 
spiritual con.dition of the Scottish Church during this 
period. Mr. Warrick, who writes as a Free Church- 
man, presents a broad survey of the facts, citing, 
among other testimonies, those of evangelical divines 
like Wodrow and Willison, of Dundee, and concludes 
that the Revolution Church was full of spiritual life 
and vigour, at least during its earlier years. He also 
notes the literary barrenness of the Church at this 
time. Though some of the Moderators were capable 
scholars, not one of them has left a book which is 
read to-day. Mr. Warrick says they were preoccupied 
with the work of reorganising the worship and dis- 
cipline of the Church. But surely the explanation 
lies deeper. 

The Revolution Church carried the practice of re- 
electing its Moderators to a degree unsurpassed before 
or since. Three of the twenty-seven Moderators 
mentioned in this book — William Wisheart, William 
Mitchell, and William Hamilton — held the office no 
fewer than five times, while Carstares occupied the 
chair of the General Assembly on four occasions. The 
latter, as is well known, was one of the greatest of 
Scottish ecclesiastics ; but how to explain the repeated 
bestowal of the honour on the other three is not easy. 
Either Wisheart, Mitchell, and Hamilton were more 
singularly gifted than even Mr. Warrick's narrative 
would lead us to suppose, or the Revolution Church 
was wofully deficient in first-rate Churchmen. 

It only remains to add that the volume is furnished 
with excellent portraits of Carstares, Wisheart, 
Hamilton, and other Moderators. W. F. G. 

j^W t3^ v^ 


The Prayer Life : Its Philosophy and Practice, 
by J. G. Tames, D.Lit, M.A. (National Free Church 
Council, 2s. 6d. net), was written at the request of the 
organisation under whose auspices it appears. It 
aims at quickening in the Churches the spirit of 
prayer, private and social. Dr. James, who is already 
favourably known by his " Problems of Prayer," here 
concentrates attention upon the philosophical and 
theological aspects of the subject. After treating of 
the teaching of the Bible on prayer and the psychology 
of prayer, he devotes three chapters each to the philo- 
sophy, the theology, and the practical aspects of his 
theme. Though the hl^ok is ably and lucidly written, 
we are inclined to think that the earlier sections are 
too advanced for the class of reader for whom the 
work is specially intended. The concluding chapters, 
however, fulfil tiieir purpose admirably, and ought to 
be pondered by all interested in the subject. Two 

AfSiL ai, is:3 



prayers by R. L. Stevenson, we are glad to note, are 
warmly commended. The Rev. H. Elvet Lewis con- 
tributes a foreword, m » » 

Out of the Blue (Longmans, Green and Co., 6s.), 
by R. Gorell Barnes. This is a love story with an 
idyUic setting in a coral island in the Indian Ocean. 
There is tlie inevitable shipwreck, and the hero and 
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and enforced home, realising, perhaps, that what is 
acceptable in one's childhood one is apt to be some- 
what sceptical of in later life. The peg upon which 
the story hangs is the relation between James Graham 
and Joan Elliott, who find themselves thus cut off from 
civilisation, and falling in love. The situation is some- 
what complicated by the fact that Graham has a wife ! 
We will not spoil the story by saying what is the solu- 
tion which is eventually reached, but leave it to the 
reader to discover. The story, though it has dramatic 
possibilities, does not ring quite true, and it occurs to 
us that perhaps it would have been more convincing 
had the author devoted fewer chapters to analysing 
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given us a little more incident to while away the year 
in the island. But perhaps Mr. Barnes has never been 
cast away on a desert island, which would account for 
a certain atmosphere of unreality which pervades the 
book. » » ® 

The smell of gunpowder and the reek of the battle- 
field, the agonies of forced marches and the stem and 
frequently brutal discipline of the British army in the 
early part of last century, all this, and much more, is 
brought vividly before us in the book which Messrs. 
Smitli, Elder and Co. have recently published, 
Wellington's Men (is. net.), being some soldier bio- 
graphies, edited by Mr. W. H. Fitchett, B.A., LL.D. 
The extracts, which are very admirably edited, are 
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the hands of soldiers," and they bring before us in all 
its horror the actual meaning of war from the stand- 
point of the soldier fighting in the ranks. It is hard 
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incident and heroic deeds, that the hands which wrote 
it all down so vividly are now still for ever. It is won- 
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not felt the horror of that heroic march when reading 
it in the cold and unsympathetic print of an orthodox 
volume of history, but when it is told in the simple 
words of a man who marched with Craufurd to Vigo, 
then, indeed, one can begin to appreciate what war 
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There is a chapter on " Soldiers' Wives " which the 
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There are diverting instances of Wellington's irrita- 
bility, as when he issued a general order that " British 
officers would in future abstain from beating Marshals 
of France," consequent upon the complaint of a French 

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ArRU as- '»'! 

Marshal who had been knocked down by an English- 
man on the boulevard, but was unable to identify his 
aggressor! Then, again, there is the incident of the 
ofhcer who lost his wig, and after a victorious battle 
went frantically riding over the field, bald-headed, and 
shouting, " A guinea to the man who will find my wig " ! 
These little anecdotes are a welcome relief from the 
tales of blood and suffering with which the book 
abounds. The men, though brutal, and in many 
instances seeming half savage, are nevertheless worthy 
of an admiration that one wonders whether one could 
so readily accord to the soldier of to-day. Their life 
was harder — one doubts if the present generation 
could stand a quarter what they had to bear — but it 
was a life which made heroes — and heroes, too, who 
thought nothing of what they did, but took it all in the 
day's work. The book will fill a present need in 
giving the student (too often addicted to taking his 
history in pre-digested tabloid form) a human insight 
into the everyday life of the men who made England. 

» 9 » 
Lop-Eared Dick (John Ouseley, Ltd., 6s.), by G. 
F. Monckton. This is a "disjointed account of the 
trials of a genial Cow-boy in a World of Widows and 
W'ild Animals." The reader will doubtless be much 
diverted by the adventures of the hero, which are 
recounted in a number of short tales. Dick tells us 
in his " appendage " that " this here book ain't nun of 
my work. The man that dun it he can't spel and is 
considrbbl of a Iyer, ... so wenn you rede this here 
book, if it gives you a pane in your inside ware you 
kepe yor laffs, . . . say the cusswords over him, not 
over mee." We will not go so far as to say we said 
cusswords over anybody — neither did we have a very 
bad " pane " where we " kepe our laffs," though we will 
admit we found " Concerning Bulldogs " rather funny. 
" A Revolt of Women " is also quite amusing, but 
we cannot say we were altogether sorry when we had 
finished the book. It strikes us that Mr. Monckton is 
aspiring to be a second " Artemus Ward," and if that 
is so, our advice is that of Mr. Punch, " Don't." 

» » » 

Mr. Phillips Oppenheim is always readable. Almost 
alone among those writers who appeal to the public 
through the medium of the serial, his characterisation 
is clever and occasionally subtle, and, as inevitably 
happens when you find this in a writer, his plot is not 
only credible, but workmanlike, and in its involutions 
invariably original. The author knows how to intrigue 
the interest, and to keep alive the reader's curiosity of 
interest without losing sight of the story as a whole. 
There are no sudden and disjointed effects in 
The Temptation of Tavernake (Hodder and 
Stoughton, 6s.). The episodes are striking and arrest- 
ing, but they fit into the framework of the novel as 
a whole, and the perspective is never thrown out by 
a sudden and abrupt transition from a love scene to a 
murder, a domestic interior to a midnight burglary. 
Tavernake is a popular type of hero, the Napoleonic 
man with a capacity for concentration " upon the 
things of the passing moment, which was in itself im- 
pressive, and which somehow disarmed criticism." The 
opening scene, when he taxes the heroine with the 
theft of a bracelet, is cleverly conceived and carried 
out, and the girl herself is a more subtle type than we 
usually find. The interest is kept up throughout the 
book, and every now and again we chance on descrip- 
tives notable for the \i'.-idity and colour. At times Air. 
Oppenheim achieves a high level of word painting. 
"A late spring — late, at any rate, in this quaint 
corner of the world — stole like some wonderful 
enchantment across the face of the moors and the 

marshes. Yellow gorse starred with golden clumps tht 
brown hillside ; and while lavender gleamed in patches 
across the silver street marshes, the dead hedges came 
blossoming into life. Crocuses, a long line of yellow 
and purple crocuses, broke from waxy buds into star- 
like blossoms along the front of Matthew Nicholls' 
garden. And with the coming of spring Tavernake 
suddenly found himself able to think of the past." 
After reading this and similar passages one wishes 
that Mr. Oppenheim, while we fully appreciate his 
talent and capacity for originating and developing a 
powerful plot, would turn his talents in the direction of 
a quieter and at the same time a more spontaneous 
channel. m » 9 

The Blue Wolf (Hodder and Stoughton, 6s.) is 
written with a swing. It is a story of Texas, and treats 
of a big ranch and of the life of the Guachos. South 
America is as yet fairly unexploited by the novelist, 
except for those wild and whirling romances that 
centre round presidential crises in one of the small 
Republics that lend themselves so ably to the melo- 
dramatic happenings. The chase of the blue wolf, the 
animal that plays an actual and symbolic part in the 
story, is powerfully described. The women, fresh, 
healthy creatures, impress one with their vitality, and 
the love interest is convincing and well sustained. 
» 9 

Mr. Robert Chambers paints with a magic brush. 
In his latest volume, THE Gay REBELLION (Apple- 
tons, 6s.), he portrays with a most delicious humour 
both the suffragette movement and faddists in 
Eugenics. America is pictured as under feminine 
rule ; women reign supreme by means of the suffrage 
strike, and marriages are few and far between. While 
men refuse the vote, women decline to notice them. 
Husbands, fathers, uncles, fiancis, bachelors — all are 
excluded ; shut out from womanly smiles and feminine 
fascinations. The Eugenists, as a side line, start the. 
New Race University for the purpose of scientific 
propagation, and lively girls capture athletic and 
well-proportioned young men and hand them over to 
the authorities of the institution. These are the 
sentiments voiced by the movement : " Mr. Langdon, 
the day is past when women will either countenance 
or take part in any disrespectful witticisms, slurs, or 
jests at the expense of their own sex. Once — ^and 
that not very long ago — they did it." The farce, 
sustained to the end, helps to make the book one of 
the most amusing we have read for a long time. 



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l/-«rll VOLUME 4 READY APRIL 29th, 





Prof. F. W. Dyson, F.R.S., Astronomer Royal. • 


Prof. Harvey Gibson, Professor of Botany in the 
University of Liverpool. I 


Dr. J. Reynolds Green, F.R.S. , Feliow of ! 
Downing College, Cambridge. i 


Sir W. A. TiLDEN, F.R.S., Professor of Chemistry 
in the Royal College of Science, Soutli Kensington. 


Prof. J. W. Gregory, F.R.S., Professor of Geology 
in the University of Glasgow. 


By Prof. W. D. Halliburton, M.D., F.R;S., 
Hon. LL.D., Professor of Physiology, King's 
College, London. 


Prof. J. Graham Kerr, F.R.S., Regius Professor 
of Zoology in the University of Glasgow. 




ArRiL If, 




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made." V &H.' Holeproof Hosiery 
ia a revelation to all. 

Look at our "GUMANTEE" 
Tickat which is sent with evarr 

pair we sell 



Then if within that time a hole should appear, send them Iwek to 
us at once with ticket, and we will present you with new hose without 

** X<?such guarantee could be given with hose made in the ordinary way. 
But with ■■ V & H " Holeproof Hose you can b« free from the fear of a bole 
suddenlv showing-not only just at that pomt at the heel where the eyes of 
everyone can sec: but at no part of " V. & H. Ilolepioof Hose will thci'e b« 
a hole That we guarantee for two whole months. 

Tiie comfort and ple.isurc ot good wearing lio.,e to men con\cys a sense 
of well-being and satisfaction all day long, while to business gii Is and busy 
house-wives: to whom the weekly darning is a long and tiresome lask, the 
benelit is incalculable. 

Everyone in the country will be 
wearing "VSH." Holeproof Hosiery 
after we can get them just to THY it 
once. Orders arc now pouring in 
from the friends ol those who alreadjr 
are weiring the new " V. & H. 
Holeproof Hose. The price is— 
TWO PMRS Ladies' Stockings. 5/10. 

postage 2d. 

TWO PAIRS Gents' Socks. 2/10. 

postage 2d. 

COLOimS stocked : Brown. Tan, 
Raxe. Hlack. N'avv-. Champagne. 
I'earl Grev and Light Mole. 


ladies'— Champagne. White. 
Empiie niue. I'e.arl Grey. Tan, 

State Boot Size. 

Remember it is easier to 

':i — i'an. Navy, f'can ijrey. 

V. & II." Holeproof Hosiery than to darn 

a baichoi socles and stockings every week. 

rie.ise state boot size, write name and address plainly, and go for your 
postal order now. Bon l let good inventions pass you. 

VAUGHAN & HEATHER, (d.pi is4 ) 

THE Mail Order House, QUEEN'S ROAD, 


Printed by IIazgi.1, Watson & Vimv, Ld., 4-8, Kirby Street, Hatton Garden, london, E.G., end Published by J. M. Dekt & Sons, Lo., 

Aldine House, Bedford Street, Covent ('.adei , Loudon, \VC, 

EVERVMAN, Fkidav, Mav 2, K'lj. 

^ Iffli It 

OBllT 1 88 1. 

For Character Sketch, see page 73. 






Portrait of George Borrow 

Hutory in iho Making —Notes oi the Week 66. 

The Birth of a New Civiiisation— By tha Rev. Lord William 

Gascoyne Cecil 67" 

William Cobbett : A Great Englishman— By F. E. Green... 63 

Literary Competition 69 

Women at Work. X. — The Can\'asser — By Margaret 

Hamilton 70 

The Lloyd George Crusade. 11. — The Wage Problem. By 

P. W. Wilson 72 

George Borrow — By E. Hermanii ... ... 73 

The Real Napoleon— By Charles Saxol6» 74 

Mr. F. R. Benson and the Stratford Festival— By C. B. 

Purdom 75 

Everyman's French Page — Joseph de Maistre on the 

Inequality of the Sexes 76 

Masterpiece for the Week. Nathaniel Hawthorne's " Blithe- 
dale Romance " — By C. Sheridan Jones 77 

Rome and an Excursion ... 78 

The Mannequin. Short Story— By V. Blasco Ibaiiez m. 80 

Literary Notes ~ ... 82 

A Lay Sermon on the Art of Reading ... ... •.•84 

Correspondence — 

Paganism and Christianity ... .>. ... ... ... 86 

Is the Human Brain Degenerating ? ... ... ... .~. 87 

Australia ... ... 87 

Enterprise in Business ....._ ... 88 

The Use of Books to Working Men ... ... ... ... 89 

Phillimore on Cromwell ... .^ m. _ ... 91 

Books of the Week 91 



SCUTARI continues to be the all-absorbing topic 
of foreign politics. The Montenegrins have 
secured the fortress at the cost of heroic sacrifice, 
and they have made up their minds to retain it. They 
are determined that Scutari shall be the capital of 
Greater Montenegro. Austria is determined that it 
shall be the capital of an autonomous Albania. Monte- 
negro is under the indirect protectorate of Russia, 
Albania is under the direct protectorate of Austria, 
wTiich for years has subsidised Albanian Cathohc 
churches. If Austria carries out her threats, war with 
Russia is a certainty. There is one disquieting feature 
of the Russian situation : at the time of the Japanese 
war it was the Russian Government which was in 
favour of hostilities, whilst the people were against it. 
In the present case it is the Russian Government 
which is pacific, and it is the Russian people that are 

Without taking any sides- irt a complex, qnestion, it 
is amusing to see the arguments adduced by the British 
Press in favour of Scutari becoming the capital of 
Albania. We are informed that the majority of the 
population are of Albanian race, that only a small 
mmority are Serbs, and that, therefore^ the Scutari dis- 
trict ought to form part of Albania. Are tlie jour- 
nalists who use this argument aware of. its grim irony' 
and its profound immorality? A band of burglars 
invade a country house, murder the majority of its 
inhabitants, and say to them, "We are the majority, 
therefore the house shall belong to us." Such is 
exactly the relative position of the Serbs and the 
Albanians. The Serbs resisted the Turks, remained 
Christians, and refused to become renegades. The 
Albanians submitted to the Turks, and for centuries 
became the dreaded Janissaries, the henchmen and the 
hangmen of the Sultan. For centuries they have lived 
by murder. They are the last surviving tribes of 
mountaineer brigands. We do not deny that they are 
eminently picturesque, but to say that they have the 

right over a territory simply because they have 
massacred its inhabitants, is to carry a little too far the 
right of occupancy and the principle of nationalities. 

The Belgian strike has come to an ignominious end. 
The Belgian leaders, to retrieve the position, affirm 
that it has been eminently successful. It is true that 
the Belgian Conservative Prime Minister has promised 
that a joint committee of Parliament will be arranged 
to consider the revision of the electoral law. If such a 
platonic promise satisfies the Belgian workmen we can 
only say that they are not difficult to please. In justice 
to the leaders, it must be granted that, from the 
beginning, they were against the strike, that: on no 
one day was it anything like general^^ and that, even 
without the present agreement, the strike would have 
ended in a complete collapse. At the same time, one 
cannot help contrasting the levity and the weakness of 
the Belgian workmen with the grim determination of 
the British workmen in the railway strike. The pre- 
sent lamentable experience, however, may be of ser^ 
vice to the Belgians. It may teach them the very 
necessary lesson that a general strike is too formid-^ 
able a weapon to be used unless there is a firm deter- 
mination to hold out until the bitter end. 

The Insurance Act is getting more and more of a 
muddle, and it is about time that the country should 
awaken to the realities of a scandalous situation. 
Patience is not only a commendable Christian virtue, 
but an indispensable political virtue, and we ought to 
make full allowance in favour of those who have had 
to organise a huge scheme of social reform. But when 
patience is exercised at the expense of millions of 
suffering fellow-citizens, it may be carried too far. 
Mr. Rocklift, secretary of the Joint Committee of 
Approved Societies, which is a committee representing 
over seven millions of insured persons (more than half 
the insured in the country), declares that tens of thou- 
sands of insured persons are not obtaining anything, 
like proper attention under the Act, and that many are 
paying for a private doctor. The grievance is not 
only that 386 doctors under the panel ha^'e over a 
thousand patients each, and that a few doctors have 
between five and seven thousand patients, but that an 
insured person, once he has selected liis doctor, cannot 
change him for another, even if he is getting- no treat- 
ment at aU. Mr. Rodilift gives a few statistics show- 
ing the enormous numbers which, some; doctors have 
undertaken to treat 


93 •• 
80 .. 

30 .. 

Dr. Liebknecht and. his Socialist colleagues are 
doing splendid service in the Reichstag by throwing 
fresh light on the world-wide organisadon; of, the Ger- 
man Armaments Trust. It had long been known that 
huge industrial concerns were directly interested in 
artificially stirring up national feeling, and in running 
up the mihtary and naval expenditure, and that the 
Trust largely used the " armoured plate " press to 
further their ends. The recent Knipp revelations have 
already resulted in the changed attitude of German 
public opinion witli regard to the new Military Bill. 
The enthusiasm with wliich the German people five 
weeks ago received it has vanished, and it may not 
be too much to hope that wiser counsels may still pre- 
vail, and that the Bill may. not pasa tlie Reichstag. 

Notice.— In our next number we hope to 
publish an article by Maurice Maeterlinck. 




1,500 — 2,000 

3 .. 


4,000^ 5,000 


3 .. 

a • 








By the Rev. Lord William Gascoyne Cecil 

In the admirable article which appears in your paper 
you speak of the Westernising movement in China. 
This is not merely a question of temporary interest 
to those who have mercantile dealings there ; certainly 
it IS not a question which should be viewed with 
amusement as a quaint abnormity like the bearded 
woman at the fair, a freak development of civilisa- 
tion ; it is, in truth, one of the great milestones that 
mark the development of the world. 

Of course, there is a humorous side to the whole 
question ; the painful efforts of the Oriental mind to 
understand the illogical systems of Western Govern- 
ment are as comic as a Chinese gentleman dressing in 
a frock-coat and trousers of brocaded silk. For as 
the silk that his country produces does not suit the 
hideous garment of the West, so neither do the great 
Confucian tenets, which put especial value on educa- 
tion, suit a democracy which gives equal rights to 
the village idiot or the University professor. The 
Chinese idea of democracy is perhaps an improve- 
ment on the Western scheme. The voter must have 
some claim to be an educated man before he can have 
a share in the government of his country. In like 
manner the Chinese have every nominal respect for 
our slow Western methods of justice, yet when they 
are in a hole they revert to the efficient Eastern state- 
craft: they cut off the dangerous man's head first, so 
that he can no longer do any damage to the Republic, 
and then, to show their pupils they respect Western 
methods, they hold a fair and just trial to see if he was 
guilty. When one hears of the Chinese becoming 
Western, the word " incongruous " keeps returning to 
the mind. 

Yes, incongruous, not inefficient ; they were that 
before they westernised, but since they have western- 
ised they seem more efficient. They carried out their 
Revolution in a most efficient way, with a minimum of 
fighting, and only a massacre here and there in parts 
of the country, such as in the north-west, where those 
in command must have had but little authority. When 
they had defeated the Manchus, they did not make 
the common Oriental mistake of driving their fallen 
foes to despair, and so prolonging disorder and in- 
curring heavy expense. With true wisdom they showed 
mercy, with the result that the opposition to the 
Revolution collapsed. 

In some ways they are too efficient. Western 
knowledge has taught them, for instance, that leprosy 
is contagious, that it may be carried by flies to all 
sorts of people who are not in direct contact with it ; 
so one governor killed a whole colony of lepers — a 
very efficient way of stamping out disease, but hardly 
congruous to our ideas of civilisation. 

This incongruity makes one ask oneself. Will the 
new civihsation really be Western? From the con- 
ceited Anglo-Saxon's point of view nothing is worthy 
of the name of civilisation except the civilisation to 
which ■he belongs ; but, of course, that is not sound 
reasoning. The world has seen many civihsations, 
some with one characteristic and some with another, 
and it is hard to say which is the strongest. Western 
civilisation has great efficiency in mechanics ; but it 
has no respect for authority or antiquity, and thus 
lacks tlie clement of durability. It is always changing ; 
in fact, that is its ideal. As we say in many an after- 

dinner speech, " We are progressive." That is all very 
well when you start with having a sufficient mass of 
abuses to abolish ; but when you have aboHshed all 
the abuses, the spirit of change will induce you to. 
found other abuses. Change is all very well till you 
have reached efficiency ; but a civilisation which has 
change as one of its characteristics is apt to run past 

The Eastern civilisation is just the opposite. It 
respects authority and values antiquity, and the ques- 
tion is, when the Easterner tastes the Western civih- 
sation, with its kaleidoscopic changes, whether he will 
not prefer to go back a little to the Eastern principle 
and find again a world which does not always 

Probably we are seeing the birth-pains of a new 
civilisation, for 35 it is certain that England will never 
become Chinese, it is most improbable that China will 
ever become Anglo-Saxon, and therefore a compro- 
mise will have to be found somewhere. What will 
that compromise be? 

Pessimists have already settled that the new 
civihsation will surely be a mixture of Eastern and 
Western vices, a very devil among civilisations — an 
efficient devil, very probably, with longer horns and a 
more mischievously poisonous tail than China has yet 
seen, but essentially a devil. A French diplomatist 
took that line in conversation the other day. We 
Anglo-Saxons were the fishermen who had uncorked 
the bottle and let out the jinnee, and he asked why our 
educators could not have left the Chinese alone. His 
whole tone was, "There! You have gone and 
done it ! " 

Optimists, especially if they come from the other 
side of the Atlantic, are, on the other hand, in no 
doubt as to what is going to happen. China is going 
to become an Asiatic United States, with a George 
Washington, in the person of Sun Yat Sen, and all the 
other incidents of American oratory. In some 
American schools in China, when we were there, they 
were teaching the science of history as it is under- 
stood in America ; but one felt that those olive-hued, 
impassive faces must have quite a different national 
history to the vigorous and energetic races of North 

Probably the new ci\'ilisation will contain good and 
bad elements, coming from both East and West ; but 
the national individuality of China will make itself felt, 
and the Eastern civilisation will be this incongruous 
thing, a Western civilisation which is essentially 
Chinese. One thing seems certain, that this new civi- 
lisation will be dominant in the Far East, and will 
probably become prominent in all the sub-tropical 
countries -of the world. 

The Chinaman, after all, prospers in the sub-tropical 
region, though he can live anywhere ; in fact, he be- 
comes happy in just that latitude in which the Anglo- 
Saxon begins to become unhappy ; and as he is 
essentially a civilised man, he probably will become 
the great vehicle for civilisation in all the regions 
where the white man can only be a temporai-y 

That is why it becomes so important to consider 
what this civilisation is going to be. The Chinaman 
is not " a nigger " ; he is a thinker, an organiser, and, 



U/.v 1, 1^13 

above all, a worker. One has only to look at the way 
he succeeds in Tonkin and the Straits Settlements to 
see that his future belongs to a much wider world than 
to China. 

It seems as if he were going to be the apostle of 
authority and education, obey the powers that be, and 
learn Western knowledge. But he also may exaggerate 
the methods of municipal dishonesty which are 
characteristic of our Western life in so many countries. 
We understand all about graft and illegal commission, 
but do we understand the Chinese " squeeze " ? He 
will teach as well as learn. 

Certainly I think it very foolish of Western thinkers 
to ignore the developments in China. I do not think 
we had any right to open up the country with our 
army and navy and with our trade, unless we were 
prepared to teach her the good side of our civilisa- 
tion ; and just at this moment we can do so very much. 
All these young Chinese thinkers are trying to under- 
stand Western civilisation, and to accommodate it to 
the conditions of Chinese nationality. Now, if we 
could but show them the true aspects of our civilisa- 
tion, what a lot of misery we might save millions upon 
millions of people hereafter! Even if we are pessi- 
mists, we might put knobs on the devil's horns and 
just blunt the point of his tail. 

But if we are optimists, what dreams may we not 
dream, especially when we read such a book as 
Milman's " Latin Christianity " ! May not the Mon- 
golian world be as much higher in moral standard to 
the Anglo-Saxon world as the Anglo-Saxon has been 
to the mediaeval Latin world, and the mediaeval to the 
Pagan world? 

As a Christian, one can see in the entry of a new 
race into the Christian thought a revivifying influence 
in a system which in some respects is showing weak- 
ness. Every national mind sees a new aspect of the 
truth, and we badly need the eyes of the Chinese 
thinker to set another and a hoher view of Chris- 

Of course, the ideal way to help China is not only 
to send missions to her, much less gunboats to compel 
her to take the opium she does not want, but to give 
her educators, enlightened men, who will teach her 
the truth. 

The Americans see this, and they are founding 
universities all over China ; and I am much afraid the 
future Chinese History of China will have a chapter 
comparing the English and American methods, and 
that chapter will not be very pleasant reading for an 

If you doubt this, go to Liverpool Street and buy 
a ticket for Peking. The journey is very comfortable, 
and there is an excellent hotel. And then go from 
Peking down to Hankow, take the boat and slip down 
the river to Nanking, and so to Shanghai ; and, as you 
go, ask to see all the English and all the American 
mission stations. I am certain— though you will be 
proud of the English missionary — you will feel rather 
ashamed of his station. 

I have tried to persuade ray fellow-countrymen to 
build a university in Central China, where the young 
Chinese would learn the truth about the Western 
thought ; and tliey would be then in a position to help 
their fellow-countrymen. 

Of course, this can be recommended for Christian 
and philanthropic reasons ; but it is also a good busi- 
ness proposition for England. The young Chinese 
who have studied in an English university will be more 
disposed to trade with England. But, so far, the 
scheme has not met with adequate support. 


By F. E. GREEN. 

Stout of limb, girt in his dust-coloured coat and drab 
breeches, with round and ruddy face, combative he 
stands before us, a live man, a figure breathing of 
Enghsh manhood from his bull neck, his strong, 
argumentative chin, his firm upper lip and fine shaped 
moutli, his pugnacious nose, to his clear eye, fired by 
a passion for justice, and lightened by a rapier glance 
of irony. .Thus does his striking personality with 
characteristic insistence stride through the pages of 
Mr. Lewis Melville's fascinating book, " The Life and 
Letters of Wilham Cobbett," issued by Mr. John Lane 
last month. 

It is a pity that the life of so great and typical an 
Englishman should have to be, issued at a price 
(32 s. net) beyond the means of most students of 
hterature. Indeed, destiny has been somewhat 
ironical in its treatment of this great publicist, who. 
was the first journalist to introduce a cheap journal in 
this country in the form of Twopenny Trash, in 
defiance, too, of a Government supported by a 
shilling newspaper electorate. In our own genera- 
tion, it was not until Messrs. Dent issued the 
Everyman edition of " Rural Rides " that we could 
buy a cheap edition of this incomparable work. 

There are two other " live " books of Cobbett's still 
circulated by publishers, and these are " Advice to 
Young Men" (1829) and "Cobbett's Grammar" 
(18 1 8). At second-hand bookstalls you can still pick" 
up copies of Cobbett's exceedingly racy " Legacy to 
Parsons" (1835) and his trenchant "History of the 
Protestant Reformation" (1824). 

Cobbett, apparently, had no feelings of revolt in his 
nature as a boy. Like the sons of most of our 
peasantry, he saw the world — that is, England — as a 
jolly fine place for adventures. He was quite content 
to take things as they were. His grandfather was a 
day-labourer ; his father started as a labourer and 
became a small farmer, keeping at Farnham a public- 
house, " The Jolly Farmer." Here WiUiam was bom, 
as anyone may learn by reading the large inscription 
painted with pride on the face of this inn. 

At the age of eleven William was lured away from 
home by a chance description of that gardener's para- 
dise — Kew. He set out to walk there with 6|d. in 
his pocket, and near the end of his journey, at Rich- 
mond, the expenditure of 3d. of his capital on " The 
Tale of a Tub '^ sent him supperless to bed behind a 
haystack, where he read until he could see no longer. 
This superb piece of satiric writing may have given 
this healthy-minded boy a taste for literature. 
Thus, through a garden gate, Cobbett entered 
Grub Street. 

He did not learn Enghsh grammar until he was 
twenty-three. He mastered syntax whilst he was a 
soldier stationed at Nova Scotia, and mark you, oh, 
pampered collegians, he had to learn it in the guard- 
room, by the light of one common fire, surrounded by 
noisy, quarrelsome, half-drunken comrades! In this 
we get an instance, together with the young man's 
forswearing all alcoholic liquors and cards during his 
eight years' service, of Cobbett's bull-dog determina- 
tion of purpose. 

In two years Cobbett became sergeant-major, and 
even instructor to and writer of despatches for his 
officers. He was a Tory, which meant that he held 
by tradition certain ideals of England and English 

Uay I, i>ij 



government. A man of shining honesty, he imagined 
that a government of men wlio had been given every 
opportunity of culture in life must be incorruptible. 
Like most soldiers, he had not begun to think politi- 
cally. His disillusionment began when he landed in 
England, and tried to bring to light before a court 
martial the corrupt practices of certain officers in the 
commissariat department who plundered the poor 
private soldier. 

Then he went to America after his romantic 
marriage, and soon became famous as a truculent 
defender of Monarchy. His innate Enghsh patriotism 
and combativeness made him stand up for English 
institutions when he heard them abused by republicans. 
He did not particularly mind hearing foreigners run 
down England, but he had John Bull's strong aversion 
to hearmg an Englisliman do so abroad. 

When he returned to England he was feted by the 
Tory Ministers, and could have had anything he liked 
to demand. He was offered the control of a Govern- 
ment journal. But no party could trammel this 
invincible Free Lance. '' No Government was ever 
rich enough," as Mr. Melville has truly said, " to buy 

Though his faith in Pitt and the Tory party was 
soon shaken, Cobbett never became a Whig. If as 
anything, we may describe him as the first great 
Independent Labour representative that ever ap- 
peared in the House of Commons. It was inconceiv- 
able that tins sturdy champion of the rural poor should 
remain long a supporter of a Prime Minister who, at 
about this time (as we learn from the Hammonds' 
"Village Labourer"), relinquished a Poor Law Bill 
because he owned himself " inexperienced in country 
affairs and in the condition of the poor " ! 

But Cobbett was soon to pay the penalty of his 
refusal to come to heel at the dictate of a political 
party. The great Free Lance, which could sell 30,000 
copies of his Political Register, whilst the Morning 
Post could sell only 1,250, must be broken. An 
indictment for sedition descended upon Cobbett 
when he poured his vitriolic irony on the heads of 
the Government for inflicting 500 lashes on the bare 
backs of English soldiers whilst a German legion 
stood on guard. 

By imposing a savage fine of ;£'i,ooo and keeping 
him within prison walls for two years the Government 
thought they had completely broken this Free Lance. 
They ruined him financially, it is true, but they never 
broke the power of that lance which sharpened its 
point upon prison walls. It struck deeper than ever 
into the vitals of oppression and corruption. 

Once more, twenty years afterwards, the Govern- 
ment tried him for sedition — tried the man that 
Brougliara, as Minister, appealed to in order to subdue, 
by the power of his pen, the Luddite riots. This 
time Cobbett left the Court triumphant, and became 
the First Man in the reign of the First Gentleman 
of Europe. Thereafter the • Government left him 

Cobbett's style was hammered out of his character. 
Therein lay its success. He was sincere, simple, 
colloquial, and personal — outrageously personal. In 
the use of the invective lay his great strength. He 
had th£ common sense of the Englishman who knows 
that if he is to be listened to, it was no use writing 
like Adam .Smith, Ricardo, or Godwin. 

Had he lived in this kid-gloved age, Cobbett would 
not have been tolerated at our London School of 
Economics, nor would the Fabian Society ever have 
asked him to write a tract. Cobbett knew nothing 
about Political Economy, though he may have 

imagined he did, and he was far too personal to suit 
the amenities of modern propagandist societies. 

Listen to this diatribe, taken from the " Rural 
Rides." After showing that " honest labourers were 
far worse off than felons," he breaks out with: 

" Oh ! you wish to keep up the price of corn for the 
good of the poor devils of 'abourers who have hardly 
a rag to cover them ! Admirable feeling, tender- 
hearted souls! Did not — oh, oh! did not care even 
about the farmers ! It was only for the sake of the 
poor naked devils of labourers. . . . This was the only 
reason for their wanting corn to sell at a high 
price! . . . 

" There is in the men calling themselves ' English 
country gentlemen ' something superlatively base. 
They are, I sincerely believe, the most cruel, the 
most unfeeling, the most brutally insolent ; but I 
know, I can prove, I can safely take my oath, that 
they are the most base of all the creatures that God 
ever shaped to disgrace the human shape." 

Cobbett understood that it was no use to write in 
an academic way about landlordism. He knew that 
the most successful way to destroy landlordism was 
to show up the baseness of landlords. Yet this 
truculent pamphleteer was one of the wisest and the 
most affectionate of husbands and fathers. The 
gentle-hearted Miss Mitford shows us this in her 
description of Cobbett's home life at Botley. And 
those of us who love " Rural Rides " get an illuminat- 
ing index to Cobbett's domestic character in that 
charming passage describing a ride from Winchester 
to Burghclere (see Everyman " Rural Rides," vol. i., 
page 295). 

Cobbett had been a little put out (on an empty 
stomach) at Richard's portmanteau breaking loose 
from his saddle. "I jumped off, saying, 'Here, I'll 
carry it myself.' And then I began to take' off the 
remaining strap, pulling with great violence and great 
haste. Just at this time my eyes met his, in which I 
saw great surprise ; and, feeling the just rebuke, 
feeling heartily ashamed of myself, I instantly 
changed my tone and manner. . . . Now, if such was 
the effect produced on me by the want of food for 
only two or three hours, me, who had dined well the 
day before and eaten toast and butter the over-night ; 
... if the not having breakfasted could, and under 
such circumstances, make me what you may call 
' cross ' to a child like this, whom I must necessarily 
love so much, and to whom I never speak but in the 
kindest manner . . . how great are the allowances 
that we ought to make for the poor creatures who, in 
this once happy and now miserable country, are 
doomed to lead a life of constant labour and half- 
starvation ! " 

Behind Cobbett's bracing egotism always loomed 
the spectre of the army of the dispossessed. 


The Editor of Everym.^n offers a prize of Two 
Guineas for the Best Essay on " The Working of 
the Medical Insurance Act : Critic'sms and Sug- 
gestions," the essay not to exceed 1,800 words. All 
entries for this competition should be addressed to tlie 

Competition Editor, 

21, Royal Terrace, 


and must reach him not later than June ist. It is 
recommended that the essays be typewritten. 





WOMEN AT WORK By Margaret Hamilton 


The question of women's employment, with its attendant problems of the rate of wages, hours of 
labour, and the inevitable competition with men workers, is a burning one, affecting as it does the 
welfare of the entire community. The Editor invites his readers' views on this all important subject. 

One of the most extraordinary developments that has 
taken place of recent years in regard to woman's work 
has been tlie enrolling of some tens of thousands of 
the sex in the great army of canvassers who are at 
work all day, and every day, selling, or trying to sell, 
a huge variety of articles, from pianos to india-rubber 
stamps, and from sewing machines to jewellery. So 
far as I am aware, there are no statistics available as to 
the exact number of women who are earning their 
living in this way, but to judge from the innumerable 
calls that the suburban householder receives daily from 
all sorts and conditions of women canvassers, and from 
the fact that tliey are as persistent in their visitations 
at the ordinary City office, there must be many, very 
many thousands of young girls and young women who 
have been compelled to adopt this most arduous occu- 
pation, in its way the hardest, most vexatious and 
dispiriting that a human being can follow. 

I suppose one ought not to be very surprised at this 
fact As a general rule women are infinitely superior 
to men where this kind of work is concerned. To use 
an Americanism, they beat the mere man "to a 
frazzle " when it is a question of selling anything to 
anybody. Their tact, their shrewd intuition, and more 
equable tempers give them enormous advantages. 
Moreover, the instinctive chivalry that even the hardest 
hearted employer feels for the weaker sex makes it 
difficult for him to turn empty away that tired-looking, 
Vorn young girl who has brought him a new Shake- 
speare to subscribe for, or who is eager to put his name 
down amongst the list of donors to a charity. A mere 
man would be promptly " turned down." But it goes 
against the grain to refuse a woman unless the request 
is quite outrageous. No doubt it was a recognition of 
that fact which has led to the employment on so huge 
a scale of the woman canvasser. 

Like many other interesting innovations, the woman 
canvasser had her rise in America, and it was in sell- 
ing books on the subscription basis that she achieved 
her most brilliant successes. Here, at home, it is on 
what is called the "advertisement side" of certain 
enterprising newspapers that she has scored most 
heavily. And deservedly so. There are journals to- 
day reaping revenues that run into thousands a year, 
which have been won for them by smart lady can- 
vassers ; canvassers who do the thing on a grand 
scale, driving round to the best shops up West in a 
well-appointed coupe or motor car, and taking care, 
we may be sure, to see no one but the manager or the 
heads of departments. These are ladies who would 
disdain the title of " canvasser." Probably they never 
mention so mundane a subject as an order for space, 
but the recognition of their intelligent and apprecia- 
tive " write ups " in the papers they represent in- 
variably takes that form. Their intimate knowledge 
of all the latest developments of fashion, their quick 
perception of anything new that is coming along, 
above all the fact that most of them contrive somehow 
or other to know everybody who is anybody, together 
with the fact that they can write brightly and well 
on the various questions that interest women, render 
them invaluable to fashionable organs as "business 
getters." Frequently they are paid on commission 
alone, with a liberal allowance for expenses. Often 

the first item will bring them in some hundreds a 
year. There is one organ well known to the writer, 
of great repute though attenuated circulation, which 
enjoys an income of some thousands per annum, due 
largely to the personality, energy, and cleverness of 
the brilliant lady who presides over its advertising 
pages. Personally popular, and a shrewd judge of 
men and things, her opinion is eagerly sought by many 
of the heads of the great houses " up West," and, to 
use another Americanism, " what she says, goes." She 
is an invaluable asset to the paper she represents, and, 
as part of her work is to go everywhere, and be seen 
by everybody, we may take it that she has a fairly 
good time of it. The social whirl, the very latest 
fashionable distraction, all the most brilliant events 
of the London season, these are not only her plea- 
sures but her business also, and the paper she repre- 
sents benefits to tlie tune of some thousands a year, 
peiid for advertisements, which, whatever other journal 
is passed over, musi be given to the weekly to which 
this bright particular star is attached. 

Contrast with this lady, brilliant, well dressed, 
eminently successful, her sisters at the other end of 
the ladder. The difference is indeed a marked one. 

Let us take the case of a girl known to the writer 
of this article — an exceptionally smart canvasser and 
hard worker. Her method is simple but ingenious. 
She calls on the better class of suburban householders, 
and succeeds, by dint of cleverness and persistence, 
in getting through to the mistress, to whom she 
promptly makes a present of a little pad. No doubt, 
she goes on to say, the lady would like a stamp of her 
name or initials also. Deftly and swiftly she sets the 
type up. If she is lucky, and the cliildren of the house 
are with their mother when she calls, then their de- 
hght is unbounded, and immediately she is requested 
to set up stamps for the children's names also. In that 
case victory is assured, for, of course, without ink, 
neither the' children's names nor their mother's can 
be stamped anywhere, and ink is no/ given away, -but 
sold at the rate of is. a bottle. In nine cases out of 
ten this strategy is successful, and the ink finds a 

The wages earned by these suburban can^'assers are 
wretchedly inadequate, often miserable in the ex- 
treme, such as even the dock labourer, to say nothing 
of the domestic servant, would turn their nose up at. 
In one case details of which have just been given 
me, girls were engaged by a certain firm to canvass 
for the enlargements of photographs. They were to 
call on likely people in the suburbs, and to offer 
enlargements of the photographs of relatives, etc., at 
a moderate charge. The pay was as follows : There 
was a salary of los. per week, together with a bonus 
of 3d. on every enlargement of a photo from ordinary 
to cabinet size, and of is. from cabinet to full-size. 
My information is that none of the girls who accepted 
this offer were able to make more than 17s. per week. 
Of course, if we contrast this form of canvassing with 
that of "'touting " for advertisements, we may see at 
once the advantage which the latter possesses. An 
advertisement canvasser is entitled to a commission on 
his " renewals." That is to say, when once a firm comes 
into a paper, and, finding the experiment profitable, 

SIat a, 191J 



repeats it, the canvasser who introduced the order can 
claim a commission on the repeat But, of course, the 
suburban householder, who requires the lineaments 
of his grandfather elaborated, does not repeat, and 
there is no commission on renewal to be hoped for. 
iWhat is the result ? The earnings of these girls, can- 
vassing up and down the suburbs, are cruelly meagre. 
iThey are out from early morning till late at night 
Their expenditure on 'bus and tram fares is con- 
siderable. Wlien midday comes, they can afford, alas ! 
only a cup of tea and a piece of cake. They leave 
Lyons' or the A. B. C. positively hungry. Perhaps sick 
even for the .want of good, nourishing food ; but they 
.must pull themselves together, so that the next pos- 
sible customer they call on does not " turn them down." 
It is just that " extra little bit of ginger that pulls the 
orders," a very clever canvasser once said in my 
hearing. He was right He lunched every day at 
Romano's, and took care to do himself well. His very 
laugh was infectious. His look spelt confidence. Yes, 
I could see the customers surrendering to his well 
fortified affability. Then I thought of the peaked- 
faced girls trudging up and down the suburban streets, 
hungry and dispirited, unable to take an order, and, 
oh so tired! 

When it comes to this sort of canvassing, when the 
boots are down at heel, and the pavement is hot and 
dusty, and the throat parched, a man will do better 
•under such an ordeal than his womanly competitors. 
To begin with, he has greater reserves of energy to 
call up, and, driven into a corner, makes the better 
fight of it I have known men and women canvassers 
go out on the same propositioa The women were by 
far the more assiduous. They worked right through 
the week steadily and persistently. The men, on the 
other hand, left the actual work to the last couple of 
days. Then they put out all their strength, and pulled 
double the business of the women. 

Men, too, have another advantage over women 
canvassers. While the latter are tactful, eloquent 
talkers, tjutet, insistent, and persuasive, they have not 
often the strange quality of geniality that some men 
possess. Geniality we have got to think of as a' 
rich man's gift ; but many a poor canvasser has cap- 
tured an order througli it. I remember well hearing a 
canvasser of my acquaintance relate how he went 
swaggering into the shop of a rich tradesman, to 
whom he put up his proposition. " Is that all .? " replied 
Dives. " Why, bless my soul, I'd thought you'd come 
to buy my business." The canvasser, of the male 
gender, was unabashed. " I should like to," he said ; 
" but just now I can't afford it." Against his will, the 
principal gave a sepulchral laugh, and the canvasser 
knew that the order was captured 1 

On the other hand, women canvassers are infinitely 
more con.scientious, hard-working, and reliable. 

It is, I suppose, this quality of reliability that they 
possess in so high a degree as compared with male 
canvassers that lias led to women being employed so 
largely in this direction. One of the most interesting 
developments that this same quality has led to — a 
development that somehow one does not like to think 
about overmuch — is the increasing employment of 
women as debt collectors and process servers. It is 
not nice, of course, to reflect that the modest-looking, 
soft-voiced young lady, who has called without an 
invitation on the elusive owner of that house in the 
square where they stay so exceedingly late of a 
night, and make such a noise occasionally over those 
card games they delight in — it is not very nice, I say, 
to reflect that this young lady has a writ or a judg- 
ment summons for the owner of the said house, and 

has followed him through all sorts of neighbourhoods 
and vicissitudes until he has been duly served. Still, it 
is found in actual practice that women do this sort 
of work more faithfully, more assiduously than men, 
and that they are infinitely more successful in obtain- 
ing results. The first essential of a good canvasser 
is to get through to the principal that he or she de- 
sires to interview. Here women are infinitely more 
successful than men. " Is it about advertisements ? " 
is a phrase that many a canvasser of the male sex 
has heard from the office boy, with a sinking heart, 
a feeling of suppressed rage. Inevitably the answer 
is in the affirmative, and inevitably he does tiot see 
his man. There is nothing doing. Somehow women 
are cleverer at overcoming these difficulties. Perhaps 
the office boy, like the Lord Chancellor in lolanthe, is 
"rather susceptible." Perhaps he thinks the lady is 
a distant cousin of the manager. Anyway, the lady 
canvasser laughs at bolts and bars, and gets through 
under circumstances that would deter the most resolute 
" business getter " of the other sex. 

Of course there are other developments of her can- 
vassing from which one does not shrink so much. Many 
of the West End houses have skilled " demonstrators " 
at work all day showing off their blouses or corsets to 
the very best advantage, and getting customers, we 
may be sure, when nothing else would suffice. This 
quite recent development has already " caught on " 
considerably, and brings the girls engaged good earn- 
ings in the form of commission, their gross receipts far 
exceeding the emoluments offered by other firms trad- 
ing in less expensive articles. Not long ago, for in- 
stance, a well-known firm of sweet manufacturers 
offered for picked lady canvassers 30s. a week and a 
commission of 2| per cent Of course, when one recol- 
lects how very heavy the canvasser's expenses neces- 
sarily are, we see at once that the terms are hardly 
equivalent to the wages of a typist or of a domestic 
servant. But they are princely compared to some of 
the earnings of the humbler class of canvassers. The 
earnings of women who call at house after house in 
the suburbs trying to sell tea or to obtain orders 
for sewmg machines or wringers are wretchedly low, 
hard and dispiriting as their work may be ; and 
if any of my readers should by any chance be driven 
to adopt canvassing as a livelihood, let them take 
good care to have only expensive articles to sell 

I suppose one of the most profitable developments 
in connection with the canvassing activities of women 
is that part of them devoted to obtaining subscriptions 
for charities, hospitals, and the like. Women are 
extraordinarily' successful in this direction, and, quite 
properly, are very well paid indeed. So much so, 
that the various institutions which employ them 
have incurred criticism from time to time for 
paying so large a proportion of their receipts away in 
this direction. But the labourer is worthy of her 
hire, even though she does not serve Mammon ; and 
one is glad to reflect that, at all events, in one depart- 
ment of her work she is well remunerated. For Mut 
most pari, alas ! one has to think of her as ill-fed, badly 
clothed, with thin boots, and an aching heart, calling 
on herself for efforts that I, at all events, am old- 
fashioned enough to believe should be spared mothers 
and sisters of a great, a prosperous, and a proud people. 

The index to the first vohtme of Evekyuan- is now ready, and 
will be sent posit free to any reader on application, accompanied 
by 4d. in stamps. Cases for binding can be obtained at is. 6d. 
each, post free is. 8d. ; also Vol. I. of Everyman, handsomely 
bound in cloth, price 33. 6d., carriage paid 43. Those de&ironi 
of obtaining the above should write at once to the Evekymait 
Publishing Department, Aldine House, Bedford Street, W.C, 
as numerous applications have aJready been received. 







In explaining the attitude of Mr. Lloyd George to- 
wards the wage problem I may recall the fact that 
year by year the Labour party submits to Parliament 
its resolution jn fuvour of a minimum of 30s. a week. 
After an hour or two of amiable conversation, the 
benches being for the most part empty, the subject is 
dropped and the statistics roll on for another twelve 
months. This is the pitiful answer of Parliament to 
tfje cry that the homes of the people are undermain- 
tained. Moreover, Mr. Lloyd George and the 
Socialists agree in urging that the remedy lies deeper 
than strikes and arbitration. Here and there 
negotiation may level up some sweated industry, 
but this is mere adjustment, hardly amounting in the 
aggregate to a defence of the status quo, especially if 
boom prices be taken into the reckoning. Prosperity 
doubtless brings employment, but it is Uie Nemesis of 
prosperity that on the same wage the employed person 
is actually worse off than he would be if at work during 
a slump. If we are to set on one side the Sociahst 
policy of general nationalisation, what is the alter- 
«iative remedy for inadequate wages ? 

Mr. Lloyd George was bred in a village. He has 
witnessed at first hand the recruitment of the labour 
market from the countryside. He holds that wage 
scales throughout modern industry are determined 
broadly by the remuneration of the agricultural 
labourer. The railwayman is modestly paid because 
-jvery rural station is a feeder whereby village lads 
to whom i6s. a week is wealth can be drawn into the 
system. You cannot impose a minimum of 30s. a 
week on railways until something like this sum is paid 
upon the farm. The same reasoning applies to the 
police, to the docker, to the building trades — indeed, 
more or less to the whole range of employment. In 
past years it was the Irish immigrant — exiled and 
embittered — who furnished a reservoir of labour at 
low wages. The agrarian revolution in Ireland has 
altered that, and what Mr. Lloyd George advocates 
for Great Britain is a revolution, essentially similar, 
though widely diverse in its legislative expression — a 
revolution which would shatter the magnetism of a 
mere i6s. a week as railway porter and turn the 
countryside into an arena which young men and 
women will only leave when offered a substantial com- 
pensation elsewhere. 

How to raise agricultural wages is thus the central 
problem of social reform, as it is regarded by the 
Lloyd George Crusaders. Methods, both direct and 
indirect, are suggested. Lord Henry Bentinck 
frankly advocates an extension of Trade Boards to 

He points out that in Dorsetshire thirty-six 
.i&bourers at 1 6s. a week are required to work 1,000 
acres of the kind of land which in Durham, where 
mines are contiguous, is worked successfully by nine- 
teen labourers at 22s. a week. Owing to various cir- 
cumstances the Durham farmer has had to pay an 
additional 6s., but he has obtained for this sum a 
labourer of double the efficiency in comparison with 
Dorset. The reason is simple. Scarcity of cottages 
is admitted, and this scarcity means that young men 
migrate, leaving the veterans to garrison the soil. The 
veterans cannot fight the battle for a living wage, 
first, because they are not always economically worth 
£\ a weekj and, secondly, because they are tied to the 

farmer by a double bond — he is their landlord as well 
as their employer. If on the countryside you had 
abundance of cottages, held independently, whether 
of landowner or of the farmer, and reinforced by allot- 
ments, the result would be a race of capable young 
labourers, secure against eviction, who would be able 
to claim their price. To get such cottages requires, 
first, the right to take over land at Budget valuation ; 
secondly, a building loan from the State ; and thirdly, 
cheap and scientific construction. There has just 
been concluded at the Board of Agriculture a com- 
plete inquiry into buildings for small holdings and 
agricultural labourers. This inquiry shows that for 
;£^I50 a decent cottage, with three bedrooms, not ill- 
designed from the aesthetic standpoint, can be pro- 
vided. Every £\ 50 so devoted works out at about 2s. a 
week in rent — this inclusive of sinking fund — so that 
for ;^I50 cottages at 3 s. a week are now rendered pos- 
sible, as in Sweden — this without resort to wood or 
concrete for walls. In Ireland the cottages have been 
given to the people at little over half their cost price. 
In Great Britain there is no reason why a loan of, say, 
£'15,000,000 should not be represented by assets fully 
equal to its par value, and be repaid within the life- 
time of the fabric. Such a loan would furnish about 
100,000 cottages. For some years to come it would 
steady the building industry, and, by furnishing alter- 
native employment on the countryside, would set in 
motion the rise in wages for agricultural labour which 
more permanent causes would afterwards sustain. 
Such a 100,000 homes, to be independent of the farmer 
and of the landowner, must be under the control, not 
of the County Council, which the farmer and the land- 
owner dominate, but of the Small Holdings Commis- 
sioners or other central authority. Tenants might be 
allowed to purchase their cottages on strictly business 
terms, with the proviso that the State shall have the 
option to repurchase in all cases where the owner 
wishes to sell. Experience has, however, shown that 
in England ownership has no magical superiority over 
tenure at a reasonable rental, with security against 

The wage value of the cottage is enhanced with 
every small holding that commences a successful 
career. Such small holding adds one to the number 
of competing employers, and in many cases it rescues 
a unit from the ranks of the employed. At present 
the Act has placed about 160,000 acres under 
small holdings, an achievement still far below the 

Want of space forbids that I should here enter 
into other questions, like agricultural organisation, 
credit banks, and so forth. I will only remark that the 
productiveness of the soil must, in the long run, go far 
to determine the wages derived therefrom, and that in 
many counties it has yet to be realised that agriculture 
is at once a business and a science. The broad argu- 
ment here is that at present low wages mean low 
rents, and low rents mean a famine in dwellings. 
What the Lloyd Georgeites desire is to reverse the 
vicious circle, securing by means of cottages valuable 
men on the land who are worth good wages, and so, 
by means of good wages, stimulating the further de- 
mand for cottages. 

How land taxation would affect this problem is a 
question for separate treatment. 

ICat I, iyi3 



GEORGE BORROW > ^ o. By E. Hermann 

The man who would attempt to explain or analyse 
the charm of Borrow might as well undertake to catch 
the ocean wave in a net. Who can decompose an 
enchantment that owes little to verbal cunning, and 
still less to artistic ecstasy, moral passion, or intellec- 
tual strength — a charm which is a mysterious con- 
tagion, an irrational and dizzy joy, a weijd and intoxi- 
cating delight, and which crumbles at the first applica- 
tion of the critical calculus? Mr. Birrell is entirely 
right when he assures us that Borrovians are born, not 
made. The true Borrovian simply loves George 
Borrow, accepting him as a man accepts the woman 
he loves, and joyfully forgiving a hundred con- 
trarieties, vagaries, caprices, and cruelties. Men blown 
together from all parts of the globe will wax com- 
radely over a talk about " Lavengro " or " The Bible 
in Spain," as men of antipodean temperament and 
character will discover a thousand affinities if they 
have once lit their dreams at the same woman's eyes. 
Nor does it need the witching hour of night, when 
the spirit of frank confidence descends upon the most 
reticent, to loosen the Borrovian's tongue. His love 
will stand the ordeal of the sun — it is, indeed, essen- 
tially a thing for daylight wear and for the open 
air. If Borrow was anything he was a genuine " open- 
air man," and for a really satisfactory talk about Isopel 
Berners, the Flaming Tinman, Ursula the wife of 
Sylvester, the Old Woman on London Bridge, the 
Bruisers of England, and all those other Borrovian 
folk whom we know so much better than our fellow- 
workers in shop or office, give us a ramble along the 
open road. I do not know what sore-hearted woman 
it was who said that she had rather be loved than 
respected. If such a wistful conviction ever came to 
the unbeloved Vagabond of Oulton Broad, death has 
given him in overflowing measure what hfe so per- 
sistently withheld. 

George Borrow's life-tragedy began early. A weird, 
futile, morose child, hving in a dream world, and divid- 
ing his time between black fits of unchildlike melan- 
choly and an alarming taste for low company, some 
inscrutable destiny had pitchforked him into as re- 
spectable and conventional a family as could be found 
anywhere in England. Between him and his father, 
from whom he inherited his strong physique, un- 
quenchable love of fighting and anti-Catholic preju- 
dices, there was an early-ripened misunderstanding, 
which gathered bitterness as the years went on, and 
brought a constant nagging pain. What man who has 
read Borrow with any sort of understanding will ever 
forget that pitiless picture of himself and his dying 
father in " Lavengro " — a cold, hard, word-etching, 
with every line bitten clean and true, and rivalled only 
by Defoe for its compelhng power of sheer, naked 
authenticity. The son's voluble, yet far from willing 
answers to the father's monotonous and inquisitorial 
" Well ? " suggest a hell of quiet torture. As one 
reads, the calm but unequivocally hostile quahty of 
that " Well ? " scrapes and rasps upon the mind to the 
point of physical paia It is a masterpiece of vital evo- 
cation with the utmost economy of verbal machinery. 

Aftet his father's death Borrow came to London, 
convinced, as many before him, that London was there 
for his conquering. London all but conquered him. 
His translations from all the languages whose acquire- 
ment had beguiled the tedium of his early years found 
no market. He had to sharpen his literary tools on 
the chronicles of notorious highwaymen and other 
gaol-birds. And at the lastj even hack-work did not 

avail to keep body and soul together, and he turned 
his back upon cities and chose the roving life which 
was his final step to greatness. He bought the stock- 
in-trade of a gipsy tinker, and, with cart and donkey, 
embarked on the hfe of a nomad. Strong as a giant, 
and full of courage and the spirit of adventure, a lover 
of the open air, and of everything in man or beast 
that was picturesque and out of the common — how 
could he fail to suck some happiness out of a life such 
as that ? His eyes took a keen hold on all he saw, and 
they remembered well ; years after, in " Lavengro " 
and elsewhere, he recalled the strange company he 
consorted with then with a vivid accuracy that 
startles and charms. Moreover, it was then he met 
Isopel Berners — the woman all Borrovians love as if 
they had drowsed through honey-sweet hours with her 
in the dingle, and questioned the stars by her side. 
Borrow counted the love of this strange, fierce, deep- 
hearted girl as water spilt upon the ground, and tor- 
tured her into flight to an unknown land, and he knew 
not what horrible fate. But if the thought of her 
stung like fire afterwards, he must have drunk deep 
draughts of enchantment over the camp fire in the 

There followed closely shrouded years of humilia- 
tion and disappointment, and then his wonderful 
linguistic gifts secured to him the strangely incon- 
gruous position of translator and colporteur to the 
British and Foreign Bible Society. With all 
their reputed narrowness, the directors of the Bible 
Society knew how to appreciate this most unconven- 
tional missionary ; and George Borrow performed his 
duties not only with characteristic vigour, but with a 
scrupulous fidelity in rendering accounts. Having per- 
formed the miracle of learning Manchu in three or four 
weeks, and translating part of the Bible into that lan- 
guage, he went as a colporteur to Spain and Portugal, 
and thus " The Bible in Spain " came into being. This 
book is the favourite of most Borrovians, not a few 
exalting it to the great detriment of " Lavengro." But 
one would be inclined to quarrel with such a judgment. 
" The Bible in Spain " has the magic of spontaneity. 
It carries one along with a glorious stride — a breathless 
contagion of life and motion. " Lavengro " bears the 
mark of deliberate and irksome toil ; but for depth of 
suggestion and evocative power it stands supreme. 

There followed long, dreary years of comparative 
failure, disillusionment, and much bitter railing against 
injustice and lack of appreciation. Gradually Borrow 
sank into the dreary loneliness of disappointment. 
Finally he settled down in an old farmhouse on 
Oulton Broad — a recluse and somewhat of an ogre 
to the simple country folk around him, who feared 
and avoided him. There he died, alone. From there 
his body was despatched by train in a deal box hur- 
riedly put together by the village carpenter. 

I have said that a tramp in the open is best for a 
really good talk about "Lavengro." But better still 
is a tramp in the open with " Lavengro " in one's 
pocket and no talk at all. Alone on the open road, 
a tramp for the time being, with the curious sense 
of power and freedom that comes of utter loneliness 
and lack of responsibility — it is then that the world 
of the open road becomes real and enters into a man. 
Then, if he opens his " Lavengro," though he be swel- 
tering in a sun-baked, windless place, he will hear, 
blowing through the wide, vague spaces of his soul 
" the wind on the heath, brother ; the wind on th« 
heath I" 



Uay 1, >9ij 

THE REAL NAPOLEON ** By Charles Sarolea 

There is probably no historical character on whom so 
much has been written as on Napoleon. The last 
twenty years especially have witnessed in every 
country a veritable flood of Napoleonic literature. In 
France Memoirs of Napoleon sell even better than 
objectionable novels, and their market is world-wide. 
Even in England there is an increasing output of 
Napoleonic books, and the historical schools of our 
Universities give precedence to the little Corsican over 
the heroes of national history. 

Amongst the innumerable volumes which have thus 
been added to that Napoleonic literature one book 
stands out as having completely changed our view of 
the Emperor's personahty. I am referring to the 
masterpiece of Monsieur Arthur-Levy, " Napoleon 
Intime." " Napoleon Intimc " is the work of a distin- 
guished business man, and not of a professional his- 
torian, and for a long time professional and academic 
historians have tried to ignore it. But its conclusions 
have gradually made their way, and are to-day more 
and more generally accepted by those best qualified 
to judge. Quite recently the greatest historian of 
contemporary France, Count Vandal, left on record his 
appreciation of the unique value of Monsieur Levy's 

In order to put the character of Napoleon iii an 
entirely different light, all that the author has had to 
do has been to study his hero, not is' his public activi- 
ties, but in his private life, in his home surroundings, 
in his capacity as a son and a husband, as a brother 
and a friend. We are often told that the private life 
of a great man does not concern us, and English his- 
torians do not like to pry into the intimacy of their 
national heroes. For instance, the historians of Wel- 
lington in their voluminous biographies carefully 
refrain from telling us anything of the love affairs 
of the Iron Duke. On the other hand, French his- 
torians instinctively have always shown much less 
reticence. They have always felt that it is the private 
man that gives the key to the public man. Monsieur 
Arthur-Levy has proved once more that the French 
instinct is a right one, at least from the point of view 
of historical truth, and that, so far as Napoleon is con- 
cerned, whereas the soldier and Emperor is only an 
actor playing a part on the stage of universal history, 
his real personality and humanity are revealed to us in 
his love letters, in his domestic correspondence, in the 
intimacy of his home life. 


The main conclusion of Monsieur Arthur-Levy may 
be summed up in the one contention that the truth 
about Napoleon's character is exactly the reverse of 
the truth which hitherto has been universally accepted. 

It is universally assumed that Napoleon was, 
above all, a man of blood and iron, that the intellec- 
tual side of his nature and his formidable will power 
had been developed at the expense of all human feel- 
ing. Monsieur Levy, on the contrary, conclusively 
proves that the emotional side of Napoleon's character 
vras as strongly developed as the intellectual, that the 
tender passions were as active and intense as the 
manly passions, and that as a lover Napoleon might 
almost be described as a sentimentalist. 

Again, it is the universal opinion that Napoleon was 
a kind of miracle, a " monstrum " in the Latin sense, 
and a " Superman " in the Nietzschean sense ; that he 
was a savage Corsican whom circumstances brought 
to rule over a civilised community : in one word, that 
he was not normal, but abnormal. Monsieur Levy, 

on the contrary, proves that Napoleon is entirely nor- 
mal ; that his greatness consists, not in his possessing - 
quaUties of which the average man is deprived, but in 
his possessing, in the highest degree and in their full- 
ness, all the characteristics of the ordinary man. 
t^ And, finally, it is the general opinion that Napoleon 
recognised no rule but his own will ; that he trampled 
down every law, human and divine ; that he was like 
an elemental force of nature, uncontrolled and unre- 
strained. Monsieur Arthur-Levy proves that Napo- 
leon was bound by the rules and conventions of 
commonplace morality ; that he possessed not only the 
virtues which make the successful business man, hard 
work, order, method, integrity, but also the domestic 
and private virtues* integrity, filial piety, loyalty to 
friends, honesty. 

There, according to our author, lies the supreme 
morality of Napoleon's career. He is not an except, 
tion to the law, but he confirms it. He does not chal- 
lenge morahty, but strengthens it. If so prodigious 
and unique a career can at all be adduced as an 
example and an illustration to point a lesson. Napo- 
leon can only be adduced by those who believe in the 
accepted foundations of moral and social life. Napo- 
leon did not take any short cuts to power. He took 
the royal road. He is not a hero according to the 
heart of Nietzsche ; he is rather a hero of Plutarch. 
One might almost say he is a! hero conforming to the 
middle-class standard of Mr. Samuel Smiles. He 
achieved greatness because he was a good son and a 
loyal friend, an honest, hard-working bourgeois. And 
he only forfeited greatness when, through the abuse 
of power, he lost those qualities and virtues which had 
raised him to the pinnacle. Considered in that light, 
Napoleon may appear a less epic and a less poetic 
figure, but he becomes more human, more intelligible, 
more intensely interesting to the philosopher, because 
more on a level with eternal human nature. 


Let us first consider Napoleon in his relation tcJ 
women. We have had endless books on the love 
intrigues of the Emperor. We are constantly told of 
his cynicism, of his brutality, but we have had no 
single exhaustive study on the one tnie love story of 
his life, on his all-absorbing passion- for Josephine. 
Yet there are few love stories more fascinating in the 
annals of himian passion. And, by virtue of this one 
central episode in his life. Napoleon is entitled to rank' 
as one of the great lovers of literature. For, even 
considered merely as literature, his love letters do take 
a very high place. They are as eloquent as the 
Letters of Mademoiselle de Lespinasse, and they 
have a much more genuine ring. Lockhart, in his 
biography (in " Everyman's Library "), which, after 
eighty-five years, remains one of the best summary 
accounts of Napoleon's career, may object to their 
" indelicacy," but he forgets that a Southern Corsican 
temperament and a Revolutionary age were not 
exactly conducive to reticence and restraint. 

Very often in the biography of statesmen and 
rulers and thinkers we find that Love and ambition are 
mutually exclusive. Love plays little part in the lives 
of Lord Bacon, of William Pitt, of Frederick the 
Great, as it plays no part whatever in the lives of the 
supreme philosophers, inveterate bachelors, such as 
Descartes, Spinoza, and Kant. On the contrary. Love 
has been the one supreme event in Napoleon's youth. 
In love, I repeat it, Napoleon is a sentimentalist. His 
passion for Josephine burst out at twenty-six years of 
age with all tlie violence of a first love, and for ,the 

Hat j. jfij 



time being fills his whole nature. His military 
triumphs are all laid at the feet of the adored. But, 
alas! that first love was also destined to be the last, 
and that great romance was also destined to be a great 
tragedy. For the passion of Napoleon was not re- 
quited. The Creole Society woman, the " mondaine " 
and " demi-mondaine " despised the little, lean, 
haggard, upstart Corsican. Josephine was not only 
frivolous and heartless ; she is now proved to have 
been unfaithful almost on the morrow of her marriage. 
She is primarily answerable for the sad change which 
took place in Napoleon's attitude to women, and in his 
attitude to life. He left Italy a naive enthusiast. He 
returned from Egypt a disillusioned cynic. He forgave 
Josephine, as he generally forgave those who 
wronged him, because magnanimity was part of his 
nature, but he could not forget her betrayal. The evil 
done was irreparable. Josephine had inflicted an in- 
curable wound. Henceforth the character of Napoleon 
is hardened, and is impervious to the softer emotions. 
Henceforth the epigram which we find in his early 
Dialogue on Love truly expresses his attitude : " I 
believe that Love is harmful both to Society and to the 
individual. I believe that Love does more evil than 
good " (Yung, " Bonaparte and his Times," page 75). 
.{To 6e continued^ 



This week and next, and the two weeks after, all good, 
wise people steal a couple of days from their business 
and go to Stratford-on-Avon, for there Mr. F. R. 
Benson holds his annual Shakespeare Festival, and 
every man and woman with tlie dust of cities upon 
them can get a breath of the atmosphere of merry 
England to last them the whole year after. There is 
nothing like it to be found anywhere else, and it is the 
best spring tonic you can have. And there is no mere 
fake or clumsy imitation about it. You pass down the 
streets of the old town, streaming with flags, enter the 
theatre for the play, and afterwards walk by the still 
banks of the Avon, and the feeling you get is not that 
of the revival of some dusty ghostliness raked out 
from forgotten corners, but of the abounding energy 
of creative life springing up anew. No one who has 
only read about the Festival in the papers can have 
any idea of its intense vitality. It is not a mere 
scholastic or antiquarian outing. It is as bright and 
fresh as the dew in the morning, and as gay as 
spring flowers. Good EVERYMAN, I beseech you, go 
there and be made young again, if you are old, or go 
and keep your youth, if age hath not yet staled you. 

The strong note of enthusiasm characteristic of the 
Festival is due to one man. That man is F. R. Benson, 
the lightest-hearted, hardest-working, choicest spirit 
there. You will see him with the children — oh, not a 
heart more overflowing with enjoyment than his ! you 
will see him on the stage — Shylock, Benedick, Mal- 
volio, Henry V. ; you will see him (if you cire lucky) 
in his dressing-room talking with infinite patience to all 
sorts of men — " from the four corners of the earth they 
come " ; you will see him in the streets nodding to the 
townsmen and at home with them. A wonderful man, 
who sheds the fire of his optimism and imagination on 
alL You will talk to him and hardly believe your 
ears, for here is a man grown old in the service of his 
art, who has sounded the depths of disappointment 
and stood to lose all that he had, who, speaks like a 

boy with the world before him, unheeding, because 
unknowing, the formidable obstacles in his path. He 
will talk to you with simple eagerness which will make 
you forget your own difficulties. The good times for 
the drama are to come, he will say. We are yet only 
at the beginning. This Stratford Festival — why, the 
Festival spirit is coming back into the whole of Eng- 
land I What you see at Stratford you will see in every 
town. Dancing, happy children, men and women for- 
getting their cares, gaiety and brightness once more 
irradiating life — that is what he prophesies. And he 
gets his belief, his courage, his whole philosophy from 
Shakespeare. jjj 

Yes, Shakespeare is the key to this man. He is so 
steeped in him, so drenched in his spirit, that, instead 
of an actor, a mere mime, he has become a prophet and 
a poet. He is himself a creator. At Stratford you do 
not think of the plays as "revivals." They are new, 
they are Benson's. He makes them as up to date as 
Shaw. Not that you will find any new interpretation, 
business, or " decoration " in them. Everything is as 
old-fashioned as the forty-year-old scenery. But the 
spirit, the " go," the original living mind, that is what 
transforms the whole. The Memorial Theatre is a 
beastly theatre — yes, bea-stly is the only word ; but 
when you are there you don't care about that. You 
don't look at the theatre ; you look at the scene on 
the stage — -at Illyria, Messina, Verona, at the fairy- 
land of Puck. You let yourself be taken out of the 
Marconi world into a region where controversies are 
over and forgotten. 

" This mu.sic crept to me upon the waters, 
Allaying both their fury and their passion, 
With its sweet air." 

The Benson Company play as though Shakespeare 
were their ordinary speech. The poetry comes off 
their tongues as though they had made it. They move 
about amid familiar scenes, and are as much at home 
in the courts of old EngHsh kings and on the coast of 
Bohemia as we are in the Strand. And they don't 
mind showing how much they are at home and how 
much they enjoy being there. There is no shyness 
about them. Polonius well described them when he 
spoke of " the best actors in the world." Truly, 
nothing is too heavy for them, and nothing too light. 

The Shakespeare Memorial Theatre is the only en- 
dowed theatre in this country. In it all the plays of 
Shakespeare except three have been produced, and 
other dramatists also, from Marlowe to Shaw, and from 
Ben Jonson to Stephen Phillips, have been repre- 
sented. In Mr. Benson's hands it is a centre of in- 
spiration for noble living, and its influence is increasing 
yearly in extent. Now in the spring, and again in the 
summer, it attracts great numbers who find it a means 
of imperishable delight. AH lovers of England hold 
it in honour. As I write this at the beginning of the 
Festival I hear the call of " The Piper," the play which 
belongs specially to Stratford and the Festival, for it 
was first produced there, and it is Mr. Benson the 
wizard, the man with the pipe, who charms us and 
draws us after him : — 

" Out of your cage, 
Come out of your cage, 
And take your soul on a pilgrimage I 
Pease in your shoes, an if you must 1 
But out and away, before you're dust : 
Scribe and Stay-at-home, 
Saint and sage, 
Out of your cage. 
Out of your cage ! " 








Lettre a Mademoiselle Constance de Maistre. 
Tu me demandes, ma chere enfant, apres avoir lu 
mon sermon sur la science des femnics, d'oii vient 
qu'elles sont condamnees a la mediocrite? Tu me 
demandes eji cela la raison d'une chose qui n'cxiste 
pas et que je n'ai jamais dite. Les femmes ne sont 
nullement condamnees a la mediocrite, elles peuvent 
meme pretcndre au sublime, mais au sublime feminin. 
Chaque etre doit se tenir a sa place, et ne pas 
affecter d'autres perfections que celles qui lui 

Si une belle dame m'avait demande il y a 
viagt ans : " Ne croyez-vous pas, monsieur, qu'une 
dame pourrait etre un grand general comme un 
homme ? " je n'aurais pas manque de lui re- 
pondre: "Sans doute, madame, si vous comman- 
diez une armee, I'ennemi se jetterait a vos genoux, 
comme j'y suis moi-meme ; personne n'oserait tirer, 
et vous ejitreriez dans la capitale ennemie au son du 
violon et des tambourins." . Si elle m'avait dit: "Qui 
m'empeche d'en ' savoir en astronomie autant que 
Newton ? " je lui aurais repondu tout aussi sincere- 
raent : " Rien du tout, ma divine beaute. Prenez le 
telescope, les astres tfendront a grand honneur d'etre 
lorgnes par vos beaux yeux, et ils s'empresseront de 
vous dire tous leurs secrets." Voila comment on parle 
aux femmes en vers et meme en prose. Mais celle qui 
prend cela pour argent comptant est bien sotte. 
Cojnme tu te trompes, ma chere enfant, en me parlant 
du merite un peu vulgairc d'iire mere! Avoir des 
enfants, ce n'est que de la peine ; mais le grand 
honneur est de faire des hommes, et c'est ce que les 
femmes font mieux que nous. Crois-tu que j'aurais 
beaucoup d'obligations a ta mere si elle avait compose 
un roman au lieu de me donner ton frere ? Mais le 
merite, ce n'est pas de le mettre au monde et le poser 
dans son berceau : c'est d'en faire un brave jeune 
homme, qui croit en Dieu et n'a pas peur du canon. 

Le merite de la femme est de regler sa maison, 
de rendre son mari heureux, de le consoler, de 
I'encourager, et d'elever ses enfants, c'est-a-dire de 
faire des hommes ; voila le grand accouchement, qui 
n'a pas ete maudit comme I'autre. Au reste, ma chere 
enfant, il ne faut rien exagerer ; je crois que les 
femmes en general ne doivent point se hvrer a des 
connaissances qui contrarient leurs devoirs ; mais je 
suis fort eloigne de croire qu'elles doivent etre par- 
faitement ignorantes. Je ne veux pas qu'elles croient 
que Pekin est en France, ni qu' Alexandre le Grand 
demanda en mariage la fille de Louis XIV. La saine 
litterature, les moralistes, les grands orateurs, etc., 
suffisent pour donner aux femmes la culture dont 
elles ont besoin. 

Quand tu paries de I'education des femmes qui 
oteint le genie, tu ne fais pas attention que ce n'est 
pas I'education qui produit la faiblesse, mais que c'est 
la faiblesse qui souffre cette education. S'il y avait 
un pays d'amazdnes qui 'se procurassent une colonic 
de petits gar^ons pour les elever comme on eleve les 
femmes, bientot les hommes prendraient la premiere 
place, et donneraient le fouet aux amazones. En un 
mot, la femme ne peut etre superieure que comme 
femme, mais d^s qu'elle veut emuler I'homme, ce n'est 
qu'un singe. 

Adieu, petit singe. Je t'aime prcsque autant que 
Biribt, qui a cependant une reputation immense a 
Saint Petersbourg. 

Letter to Mademoiselle Constance dc Maistre. 
You ask me, my dear child, after reading ray lay 
sermon on tlie education of woman, how it is that 
they are condemned to mediocrity? Tliere you ask 
me to prove something which does not exist, and 
something which I never said. Women are not at 
all condemned to mediocrity ; they may even aspire 
to sublimity, but only to fcruininc sublimity. We should 
all keep our own places, and only affect those quali- 
ties which belong to us. 

Had a beautiful lady asked me twenty years ago, 
" Do you not believe, sir, that a lady could be as great 
a general as a man ? " I should not have failed to 
repl}-, " Undoubtedly, madam, if you commanded an 
armj', the enemy would throw themselves at your feet, 
as I do. Nobody would dare to shoot, and you would 
enter into the enemy's capital to the sound of the 
violin and tambourins." If she had asked me, " What 
prevents me from knowing as much about astronomy 
as Newton ? " I should have told her just as sincerely, 
"Nothing at all, my heavenly beauty! Take the 
telescope ; the stars would consider it a great honour 
to be ogled at by your lovely eyes, and would hasten 
to tell you all their secrets." That is how one talks 
to women in verse and in prose. But she who takes 
that as ready money is truly foolish. What a mistake 
you make, my dear child, in speaking to me of "the 
rather vulgar merit of being a mother." Merely to 
have children may require nothing but trouble, but 
the great honour is to make men, and that is what 
women can do better than ourselves. Do you think 
I should have been very much obliged to your mother 
if she had composed a novel instead of giving me your 
brother? But the credit lies not in bringing him into 
the world and placing him in his cradle ; it is in 
making an honest young man of him, one who behVves 
in God and has no fear of cannon. 

Woman's mission is to regulate the house, lo make 
her husband happy, to console him, to encourage him, 
and to rear up his children — that is to say, to make 
men; that is the great "travail," which has not been 
cursed as the other. 

At the same time, my dear child, cne nni;t exag- 
gerate nothing. I believe that wonien in general 
ought never to devote then-jselVes to knowledge con- 
trary to their duty. But I am far from believing that 
they ought to be perfectly ignorant. I do not wish 
them to believe that Pekin is in France, or that 
Alexander the Great asked to marry Louis XIV.'s 
daughter. Wholesome literature, moralists, great 
orators, etc., suffice to give women the culture they 

When you speak of the present education of women 
destroying genius you forget that it is not the educa- 
tion which produces the weakness, but it is the weak- 
ness which produces the education. If there existed 
^ country of Amazons who liad provided themselves 
with a colony of small boys, and who had educated 
them as we educate women, the men would soon take 
the upper hand and whip the Amazons. In short, 
woman cannot be superior except as woman, 
for as soon as she tries to rival man she is only a 
monkey ! 

Adieu, little monkey. I jove j'ou almost as much 
as I love Biribi, who at present has a boundless 
reputation in St. Petersburg. 




Nathaniel Hawthorne's " Blithedale Romance." * By C. Sheridan Jones 

It needs, perhaps, some little courage, when one is 
writing of a supreme genius like Nathaniel Hawthorne, 
to pass over what is usually regarded as the greatest 
exemplification of his art, at once so elusive, so dis- 
tinctive, sb peculiarly his own, and to offer the reader 
instead a work far less thumbed, though, as I venture 
to think, not less treasured by those who know its 
charm. " The Scarlet Letter " has been translated 
into almost every language ; its readers are legion. 
"The Blithedale Romance," on the other hand, has 
never achieved the insult of popularity, and is known 
only to a few. Yet in that very fact lies the justifica- 
tion of my choice. For once let its quaint, compelling 
power, its freshness, its grip, above all, to use a bad 
because a vague word, its modernity, win the attention 
of a larger circle and soothe their jaded spirits, then, 
even as we all of us prefer a love tale to a sermon, so 
shall all of us come to think of " The Blithedale 
Romance " as Hawthorne's most enduring achieve- 

I suppose there is in the lives of most people, worth 
counting, at least one little green patch of youth and 
romance, when we dreamed and had visions of the 
delectable mountains, and looked beyond the unlovely, 
sordid realities of life. Such a period is usually brief — 
"Brief as first love " — but it leaves on a man an 
impress that lasts his life through, and will never let 
him sink below a certain level. It is just that spring- 
time pf the mind that Hawthorne caught and preserved 
for us in his great romance. Hawthorne was one of a 
httle company of Socialists, or, to be meticulously cor- 
rect, Communists, who, over half a century ago, 
repaired to Brook Farm, Rocksbury, U.S.A., to attempt 
something which has been vulgarised into absurdity 
since by the now misleading title of the simple life. 
The history of the nineteenth century is strewn with 
the broken hopes of these toy Utopias, by which, from 
Salt Lake City down to Letchworth, mankind has 
sought to gratify that innate sense of perfection which 
leads him to revolt agairjst our drab, imperfect, and 
creaking civilisation. At Blithedale, as Hawthorne 
re-named Brook Farm, one feels that such an attempt 
had a golden chance. The Utopians had plenty of 
grit They were mellow, but rtot soft ; keen, but not 
fanatical, and some at least had a saving sense of 
humour, and smiled when one of the comrades in a 
fever of nature-worship declared that " we can never 
call ourselves really regenerated men till a February 
north-easter is as grateful to us as the softest breeze 
in. June." They had to teach them how to get to 
work, and farm the land, stout Silas Foster, whp 
mingled little in the conversation of the elect, 
" hut when he did speak it was much to the purpose." 
Which man among you," quoth he, "is the best 
judge of swine? " 

"Pigs! Good heavens! have we come out from 
among the swinish multitude for this ? " Still, the land 
was good. The labourers were willing, and had too 
great a breadth of mind to indulge in the petty • 
jealousies and bickerings that have wrecked many such 
an attempt. They got to work with a will, resolved 
that " as the basis of our institution we should offer 
up the earnest toil of our bodies as a prayer, no less 
than as an effort, for the advancement of our race." 

Standing out from among the knot of dreamers of 
Blithedale was Zenobia, who is presented to the reader 
• E-erymans Library. 

with consummate skill. She is the best portrait, I have 
always thought, that fiction affords of a type that many 
fictionists have attempted — -that of " the high-spirited 
woman bruising herself against the limitations of hci 
This is how she appeared to Miles Coverdale, 


the narrator of the story, when he reached Blithedale : 

" She was dressed as simply as possible, in an 
American print, but with a silken kerchief, between 
which and her gown there was one glimpse of a white 
shoulder. It struck me as a great piece of good for- 
tune that there should be just that glimpse. Her hair, 
which was dark, glossy, and of singular abundance, 
was put up rather soberly and primly, without curls 
or other ornament, except a single flower. It was an 
exotic of rare beauty, and as fresh as if the hothouse 
gardener had just clipped it from the stem. That 
flower struck deep into my memory. I can both see 
and smell it at this moment. So brilliant, so rare, so 
costly, as it must have been, and yet enduring only for 
a day, it was more indicative of the pride and pomp 
which had a luxuriant growth in Zenobia's character 
than if a great diamond sparkled among her hair. . . ." 

Zenobia is young, -rich, aristocratic, with just that 
touch of enigmatic mystery as to her origin and position 
that gives piquancy to the figure. 

Xhat night, the first at Blithedale, another girl 
arrives to take her place in the life of the colony— 
a desolate, shrinking figure, she comes unannounced 
and unasked, accompanied by Hollingsworth the 
Philanthftpist — to throw herself at the feet of Zenobia, 
and to beg shelter and a home ; a poor, shivering, sad, 
depressed figure, Priscilla by name, " with whom it was 
hardly possible to help being angry in sheer despair 
of doing anything for her comfort." A perfect foil, 
in fact, to the brilliant, strong, clever, capable Zenobia, 
who shone in the kitchen as in the drawing-room. 

But what of the man HoOingsworth, who accom- 
panied Priscilla, and who tells his friends that an " old 
man brought her to my lodging, and told me to convey 
.her here, where, so I thought, she had friends " ? 

" I never could tolerate a philanthropist before," 
says Zenobia, and Hollingsworth is the only sort of 
person one can forgive for answering to that descrip- 
tion. He had that strange tenderness that goes some- 
times with huge strength, " a tenderness few men could 
resist, and no women " : a man of enormous, elemental 
force, filled with a furious, a blind, an all-consuming 
compassion for the weak, the desolate, the lonely and 
oppressed. Obsessed with their sufferings, he cannot 
rest or sleep till he has toiled, pleaded, begged, and 
thundered for them, and, just as the late Joseph Cowen, 
when asked why he did more for the PoUsh insurgents 
than for anybody else, answered, " Because they are 
the most forlorn," so Hollingsworth's mind is possessed 
of the great idea of helping convicts ; of building a 
prison for them that all the world should recognise 
as the model institution for their treatment, by which 
alone they could be reclaimed 

Many and varied are the combats that the disputants 
wage at Blithedale, and wonderfully dramatic are the 
conflicts that these three temperaments strike out from 
each other, and from Miles Coverdale. I can only 
find space for one. It is when Hollingsworth lets him- 
self go, with torrential eloquence, on the subject of 
woman, dismaying his advanced friends by a tre- 
mendously vigorous defence of the old-fashioned, 
conventional view. " Man is a wretch without 



Mat :, 1913 

woman ; but woman is a monster — and, thank heaven, 
an almost impossible and imaginary monster — without 
man as her acknowledged principle ! . . . Were there 
any possible prospect of woman's taking the social 
stand — poor, miserable, abortive creatures, who only 
dream of such things because they have missed 
woman's peculiar happiness. . . . were there a chance 
of their attaining the end which these petticoated mon- 
strosities have in view, I would call my own sex to 
use its physical force, that unmistakable evidence of 
sovereignty, to scourge them back within their proper 

But women's rights and discussions thereon play 
little part in the story, which unravels a tangled scheme 
as it develops. For Zenobia and Priscilla, both of 
whom love Holhngsworth, both of whom elect to 
abandon Bhthedale colony for the great new convict 
estabhshment that his genius is to rear in its place, 
are, it seems, half-sisters. The old man who sent 
Priscilla down to Blithedale was their father. He 
acted in a vain endeavour to equahse matters between 
these two children, one of whom had inherited the 
wealth, the independence of spirit, the brilliance that 
marked his youth, and the other the plaintive resigna- 
tion of an enfeebled and disgraced old age. But the 
sisters are, of course, never equal, and Zenobia towers 
above Priscilla, and, for all the latter's simpUcity and 
pathos, carries off our affection. In one respect only 
does she lose to Priscilla — the. thing that she cares for 
most in the world — Hollingsworth's love. This Priscilla 
gains by her very weakness of spirit and body; a 
weakness that renders her the tool of an unscrupulous, 
spirituahstic charlatan, whose life has been inextricably 
mixed up with Zenobia's also. From that fate Hol- 
lingsworth rescues Priscilla finally, and takes her back 
to Blithedale — to renounce the splendid Zenobia for 
ever, to fling her from him, in fact, with all the 
brutality that fanaticism had bred in his soul, which 
could be iron as well as tender. 

The final scene is driven home with immense 
force. Hollingsworth throws Zenobia off, and Pris- 
cilla, with heart smiting her, flings herself at the older 
woman's feet, and begs her love and forgiveness. 

Zenobia dies by her own hand that night, but Pris- 
cilla lives on for a worse fate. Ten years later Miles 
Coverdale goes back to Blithedale, and meets her and 
her husband. 

" ' I have come, Hollingsworth,' said I, ' to view your 
grand edifice for the reformation of criminals. Is it 
finished yet?' 

" ' No, nor yet begun,' answered he, without raismg 
his eyes. ' A very small one answers all my purposes.' 
"Priscilla threw me an upbraiding glance. But I 
spoke again with a bitter and revengeful emotion, as 
if flinging a poisoned arrow at Hollingsworth's heart. 
' Up to this moment,' I enquired, ' how many criminals 
have you reformed? '. 

"* Not one! ' said Hollingsworth, with his eyes still 
fixed on the ground. ' Ever since we parted I have 
been busy with a single murderer.' 

" Then the tears gushed into my eyes, and I forgave 
him, for I remembered the wild energy, the passionate 
shriek with which Zenobia had spoken these words, 
' Tell him that he has murdered me ! ' ' Tell him that 
I'll haunt him ! ' and I knew what murderer he meant, 
and whose vindictive shadow dogged the side where 
Priscilla was not.' " 

I always think this picture of the strong man, so 
eloquent, so resolute, so invincible, so indomitable in 
his purpose, broken, crushed, silent, and to be so for 
ever, is one of the most terrific warnings that literature 
has uttered to the soul of man. 

1.7 * 


Amateur ecclesiology is an English mark. We meet 
people every day who count their cathedrals seen as, 
in another age and clime, they would have counted 
their scalps. And it is notorious that few English- 
men, when stranded in a foreign village, can resist 
the temptation of visiting the local church, however 
modem, ugly, or neglected. Consequently we possess 
an extensive and distinguished literature on eccle- 
siastical architecture and symbolism. Not that our 
ecclesiophile is, as a rule, in the least learned in these 
y>bjects, or endowed with any conspicuous measure 
of taste ; he is wilUng to learn, he is always beginning 
to learn, and he seldom attains to anything but a 
highly edifying state of chaos. 

Mr. Bumpus has written a book that is not abso- 
lutely for the beginner. He is a zealot of his subject, 
into which he plunges with commendable impatience, 
and he does not often pause to explain technicalities 
or to give his disciples breathing-space. Moreover, 
and this is his best quality as a cicerone, he has his 
strong, nay violent, sympathies and antipathies. An 
excellent quahty, we have said, but disconcerting to, 
the adepts of Baedeker. Still, his book is to be 
strongly recommended to all who want to know more 
intimately the principal and some other churches of 
Rome and certain South Itahan churches. The ex- 
cellent illustrations, for one thing, are thoroughly rele- 
vant to the text. Only — a little previous knowledge 
and a certain seriousness of aim are demanded of the 
reader ; Mr. Bumpus is not always lucid, and we have 
found ourselves forced to read sentences as many as 
three times before we grasped his real meaning. 

The section devoted to St. Peter's is probably the 
best, as well as the most important, of the liook. After 
that we should rank those on San Lorenzo fuori le 
Mura, a church that is comparatively neglected by 
foreigners, and on the wonderful San Clemente. San 
Paolo fuori le Mura gives Mr. Bumpus fine scope 
for his more fiercely critical qualities. Of the archi- 
tect Poletti, of the basilica as it stands to-day, he 
writes : " We have nothing to thank this architect for, 
except his retention of the apse and the eastern re- 
mains ; and perhaps for keeping the general 
arrangement of five aisles." ' The last clause is a very 
distinctly saving one, for, as Mr. Bumpus, two pages 
later, very properly observes : " The effect of the 
forest of Corinthian columns, viewed from the north 
or south-east angles of the nave, is truly magnificent ; 
indeed, I know hardly anytliing more impressive as 
a coup d'osil in architecture than the double rows of 
pillars down the immense nave of San Paolo fuori le,. 
Mura at Rome." 

Mr. Bumpus is almost equally puzzled how to de- 
liver his final judgment about St. Peter's ; after 
deprecating the expression of private and personal 
impressions, he gives us the received opinion, in which 
he partakes, that the great church is full of the defects 
of its origin, but, once allowed to permeate tlie 
esthetic consciousness, becomes for every serious 
critic the supreme achievement of human art. This 
refers only to the interior, though even here our author 
points with tlie reproving finger of love to blemish 
after blemish-,, externally the defect is undeniable. 
The facade having been properly pulverised, Mr. 
'Bumpus continues, " which facade itself in its turn is 
overtopped by the shapeless masses of the Vatican, 
which looks hke a union workhouse built on top of a 
railway station, and a gigantic printing office super- 
imposed as an attic and an afterthought." 

* "The Cathedrals and Churches of Rome and Southern Italy." 
By T. Francis Bumpus. 163. net. (T. Werner Laurie.) 

Hay 1, 1913 








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THE MANNEQUIN ** * By V. Blasco Ibanez 

Nine years had passed since Louis Santurce 
separated from his wife. Since that day he had only 
seen her by glimpses, a lovely vision veiled in silks 
and muslins, flashing past him in a fashionable car- 
riage, or occasionally, as he looked down from the top 
gallery of the Theatre Royal, he had recognised her 
in a box far below, the centre of a crowd of men, all 
competing for the chance to whisper in her ear and 
advertise their intimacy to an admiring world. 

These meetings — if one can call them meetings — 
had finally quenched the last sparks of his dead pas- 
sion, and, hke a convalescent fearing a relapse, he had 
persistently avoided her ; yet now, in spite of every- 
thing, here he was going to meet her, to see her, to 
speak to her, in that grand Castellana palace whose 
insolent luxury bore public witness to his own dis- 

Each jolt of the cab seemed to shake out memories 
of the past from every comer of his mind. That 
earlier life, which he had no desire to remember, obsti- 
nately unrolled itself before his closed eyes ; their 
honeymoon, the honeymoon of a petty Government 
clerk married to a woman of beauty and breeding, the 
daughter of a family that had known better days ; the 
bliss of their first year of poverty sweetened by love ; 
after that the complaints of Henrietta as she began 
to rebel against her narrow lot ; her dumb rage when 
every man she met told her she was beautiful, and she 
knew that she was badly dressed; quarrels breaking 
out between him and her on the smallest pretext ; 
midnight recriminations in their bed-chamber; the 
growth of suspicions which gradually undermined the 
husband's faith in his wife ; then his sudden and un- 
expected promotion in the office, and an equally 
sudden change at home, where, to his surprise, new 
luxuries made their appearance ; at first these novel- 
ties were introduced somewhat shyly, as if in fear of 
scandal, but sooft they were flaunted boldly, as if in 
open mockery of the blindness of her husband and 
the whole household. At last came the bitter day 
when Louis received the damning proof of his dis- 
grace. He writhed with shame at the thought of his 
own weakness. He was no coward, so he assured 
himself, but he had either lacked will or loved her too 
well ; and so, when, by odious spying, he had con- 
vinced himself of his dishonour, he could do no more 
than raise his clenched fist to strike that fair face of 
hers, the waxen face of a beautiful doll, and then^ 
refrain from striking. It needed all his resolution to 
turn her out of the house, and the moment the door 
closed behind her he had wept like a deserted child. 

Then came complete solitude, the deadness of 
isolation, broken only by newspaper paragraphs that 
made his wounds bleed afresh. His wife was making 
the tour of Europe in the style of a princess ; she had 
been " launched " by a millionaire ; she had found her 
true life, the life for which she was born. - For a whole 
winter she was the talk of Paris ; the papers were full 
of the new beauty from Spain ; fashionable watering- 
places rang with her triumphs; men coveted the 
honour of ruining themselves for her ; and various 
duels and romantic suicides wove a halo of legend 
round her name. After three years of continuous 
triumph, she came back to Madrid, her beauty only 
enhanced by the fresh charm of having seen the 
world. Her protector at this time was the richest- 
merchant in Spain ; in his magnificent palace she was 
the queen of a court where only men had the entree, 
and where all men, ambassadorsj financiersj and states- 

men alike, contended for her smile as the highest 
decoration that could be conferred. So great was 
her power that Louis himself had reason to think he 
felt it in the offers which came to him of certain poli- 
tical posts that did not naturally fall to his depart- 
ment. Tormented, like other Government clerks, by 
the perpetual fear of losing his place, he was unable 
to refuse these offers, though he guessed well enough 
that they came from the hidden hand of Henrietta. 
Condemned to toil for bare bread, he had the shame 
of knowing in his secret soul that he owed his place, 
not to his merits, but to the beauty of his wife. All 
that he could find strength to do was to turn his back 
on her, if he chanced to meet her out walking, that 
her triumphant dishonour might not stare him in the 
face ; yet, even as he fled, he was pursued by the look 
of surprise in her eyes — eyes that for a moment lost 
the bold assurance of the successful demi-mondaine. 

One day he received an unexpected visit — from his 
wife's confessor, of all men in the world! This sin-i 
gular visitor proved to be a mild old priest, who came 
in timidly, and was evidently shy about his errand. 
It was he who now sat beside him in the cab. He was 
precisely the sort of confessor she would choose ! So 
amiable, so considerate, so unassuming! The first 
time, when he let out who had sent him, Louis had 
angrily retorted, " Be damned to her insolence, and to 
yours, too, for coming here ! " But, quite unper- 
turbed, the worthy old man went on talking like a 
schoolboy anxious to say his lesson quick before he 
forgets it ; and he discoursed piously to the indignant 
husband of Mary Magdalene, who had sinned, and of 
our Lord, who, sinner though she was, had pardoned 
her ; and then, dropping the cleric and speaking in his 
ordinary tones, he told him of the chait^e that had 
come over Henrietta. She had fallen ill, oh! dread- 
fully ill, of a most cruel disease that was eating her 
life away. It was cancer, and only by constant injec- 
tions of morphia could she be saved from breaking 
down utterly and screaming in her paroxysms of 
agony. Her misery had turned her eyes to God. 
She repented for the past ; she wished to see him. . . , 
And on hearing this his coward heart leapt with 
joy, the weak man's joy at knowing himself avenged. 
Cancer ! She was dying a living death ; she, so proud 
of her beauty! Oh, what a sweet revenge! . . . No, 
he would not go to see her. It was no use for the 
priest to argue about that. . . . But he might come 
and see him when he liked, and give him the latest 
news about his wife's illness. That was a thing he 
had no objection to whatever. And his secret soul 
rejoiced in his cruelty. 

After that the priest visited him almost every even- 
ing, smoked a cigarette or two and talked of Hen" 
rietta, and sometimes they went for a walk through 
the outskirts of Madrid just like a pair of old friends. 

The disease made rapid progress. Henrietta knew 
that she was dying. She longed to see him and im- 
plore his pardon. She begged for him as a sick, 
spoilt child begs for a toy, until even the Other Man, 
her powerful protector, omnipotent to the world, yet 
docile to her, entreated the priest to bring Henrietta's 
husband to the house. And the worthy old con- 
fessor spoke with real enthusiasm of madame's touch- 
ing conversion, even though he had to admit that she 
was still a slave to that accursed love of luxury, the 
perdition of so many souls. 

Although kept a prisoner to her house by the dis- 
ease, during her moments of respite, when the cruel 

Mat 3, 1913 



pain did not keep her frantically tossing from side to 
side, she buried herself in fashion plates and cata- 
logues from Paris, she wrote to her dressmakers, and 
seldom was there a week in which boxes did not arrive 
full of the latest novelties, dresses, hats, and jewellery, 
which she gloated over and played with for a day in 
her locked chamber, only to toss them like broken 
toys into a corner, or hide them away for ever in one 
of her innumerable wardrobes. The Other Man bore 
all these caprices, anything, everything, if only to 
make Henrietta smile. 

Bit by bit these strange confidences brought Louis 
into close touch with his wife's existence. He fol- 
lowed, from a distance, the course of her disease, and 
there was no day that his mind was not full of the 
woman from whom he had separated himself for ever. 

One evening the priest arrived in great anxiety. 
Madame was most surely at the point of death. She 
was crying out for her husband by name. It was 
nothing less than a crime to deny the last consolations 
to a dying woman, and he would not permit it, not if 
he had to drag Louis there by main force. And 
Louis, overmastered by the old man's will, let himself 
be dragged off and forced into a cab. He cursed him- 
self for his weakness, yet he could not turn back. . . . 
A coward ! always a coward ! 

The cab stopped in front of the Castellana House, 
one of the finest palaces in Madrid, and Louis fol- 
lowed close behind fhe priest's black cassock up the 
steps. How often had he flung a glance of hatred 
there as he passed by ! Now he felt nothing, neithei: 
hatred nor pain ; only a keen sense of curiosity, like 
the discoverer of a new country tasting by anticipa- 
tion the marvels he expects to see. 

Inside the house it was the same with him ; nothing 
but curiosity and surprise. . . . Ah^ wretch! How 
often in the dreams 6f his nerveless soul had he seen 
himself entering that house, like a stage husband, 
weapon in hand, to slay the faithless wife, and then, in 
a sort of wild beast fury, cut and slash the costly 
couches, the rich hangings, and the soft carpets. And 
now the softness that he felt under his feet, the 
beautiful colours that slid past his eyes, the flowers 
whose perfume greeted him from every corner, filled 
him with a sort of emasculate intoxication, and he felt 
an impulse to fling himself on those couches and take 
possession of them as if they were his, because they 
were his wife's. Now he comprehended the meaning 
of wealth, and the powerful grip it takes of its 

Already they had reached the first floor, and so far 
there had been absolutely nothing to show that he 
was in the house of death. He saw servants, behind 
whose impassable masks he thought he detected an 
air of insolent curiosity. A waiting-maid gave him a 
bow and an enigmatical smile. Was it sympathy or 
only contempt for " the husband of madame " ? Pass- 
ing a room, he fancied he caught a glimpse of a well- 
dressed man hiding inside. No doubt that was the 
Other Man ! Louis felt abashed before this new, 
grand world he had entered, and then his arm was 
taken by his guide, and he found himself gently 
pushed forward through a door. He was in madame's 
chamber, a darkened room, across which shone the 
broad ray of a single sunbeam, admitted through the 
crevice of a window shutter. 

Right in the middle of the sunbeam's path stood a 
woman,' erect, slender, rosy, in a lovely evening dress, 
her pearly shoulders rising out of a cloud of soft frills, 
her bosom and her hair ablaze with jewels. 

Louis recoiled in horrified protest against the trap 
laid for him. Was that a dying woman ? Had they 
brought him there to insult him ? 

" Louis .... Louis . . . ," cried a weak voice behind 
him, a tender, childish voice, which recalled from out 
of the past the sweetest moments of his life. 

His eyes, growing accustomed to the half-light, dis- 
cerned at the back of the room an object with steps 
up to it, monumental and imposing as a high altar. It 
was a bed, and in it lay a white figure, its curves dimly 
outlined under the coverings. 

He looked again at the woman in the sunbeam, who 
stood, apparently awaiting him, slender and rigid, her 
eyes staring vaguely, as if through a mist of tears. It 
was but a mannequin, an artistic mannequin, modelled 
into a marvellous likeness of his wife. .She had had 
it made so that she might be better able to judge of 
the new dresses which she was perpetually receiving 
from Paris. The lifeless doll was her puppet, to stand 
in her place in the private exhibitions of wealth and 
elegance that were the sole consolation of the rich 
woman's sufferings. 

" Louis .... Louis . . . ," the little voice called again 
from the depths of the bed. 

Sadly Louis went to her, to find himself caught in 
the embrace of arms which clasped him convulsively, 
and to feel an ardent mouth seeking for his mouth, 
imploring pardon, while his cheek received the hot 
caress of tears. 

" Say you forgive me, Louis ! Say so, and perhaps 
I sha'n't die ! " 

And the husband, whose instinct had been to repel 
her, ended by yielding himself to the embrace of those 
arms, and repeating unconsciously the pet names and 
phrases of their happy days. His eyes, growing more 
used to the darkness, gradually took in the details of 
his wife's face. 

" Louis, my Louis," said she, smiling through her 
tears, " how do you think I'm looking .? I'm not so 
pretty now as when we were happy together .... 
before I'd quite gone out of my senses. Tell me, for 
God's sake, how do I look ? " 

Her husband gazed at her in dismay. Beautiful, 
beautiful always, with that infantile and simple charm, 
which made her so dangerous. Death was not there 
yet ; only underneath the sweet perfume of that per- 
fect body and that gorgeous bed some subtle, far- 
away effluvium seemed to insinuate itself, some taint 
of dead matter that told of internal decay and made 
itself felt in her very kisses. 

Louis became conscious that there was someone 
behind him. A few feet away stood a man watching 
them with a hesitating look, as if drawn to the spot 
by an impulse too strong to be resisted, yet of which 
he must feel ashamed. Henrietta's husband recog- 
nised, as half Spain would have recognised, the 
austere face of a certain elderly gentleman, a states- 
man of sound, public principles, a great champion of 
moral order. 

" Tell him to go away, Louis," cried the sick woman. 
"What's that man doing here? I only want you. I 
only want my husband. Forgive me .... it was 
luxury, accursed luxury. I wanted money, lots of 
money .... but for love, only you." 

Henrietta wept as she showed her penitence, and 
he, the Other Man, wept too, helpless and humbled 
before her contempt. 

Louis, who had so often thought of him with bursta 
of fury, and at first sight wanted to fly at his throaf, 
now began to look at him with sympathy, and even 
respect. He loved her, too ! And their common love, 
instead of making them enemies, brought the husband 
and the Other Man together in a strange bond. 

" Tell him to go ! Tell him to go ! " repeated the 
sick woman with infantile obstinacy. And the hus- 
band looked at the great man apologetically, as if to 



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THE WEAKER VESSEL, e f.benson. 

By the Author of " He Who Passed." 

Q ROWING PAINS. ivy low. 



JOHN CHRISTOPHER, es each volume. 
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make excuse for his wife, who hardly knew what she 
was saying. 

" Come, madame," said the voice of the priest from 
the end of the room. " Think of your soul and of 
God. Do not fall into the sin of pride." ' 

The two men, the husband and the protector, ended 
by sitting down together at the bedside of the sick 
woman. The pain made her cry out ; the anodyne 
was needed, and the two men anxiously hastened to 
procure her relief. Their hands met more than once 
while they were acting as Henrietta's nurses, and no 
instinctive repulsion drew them apart; instead, each 
helped the other with a brotherly readiness. 

llouis found himself momently more in sympathy 
with this kindly man, so simple-mannered, in spite of 
his millions, who wept even more sincerely over his 
wife than he did himself. During the night, when 
the sick woman was resting under the influence of the 
morphia, the two men, overpoweringly influenced by 
their watch beside the sufferer, conversed in a low. 
voice, without their words showing the least vestige 
of ancient rancour. 

At daybreak Henrietta died, the words "Pardon! 
Pardon ! " on her lips. But her last look was not given 
to her husband. She, the beautiful, brainless bird, 
took flight into eternity, her eyes caressing the manne- 
quin of the eternal smile and the glassy stare, her dear 
idol standing upright there in the simbeam's path and 
rearing its empty head, ablaze with brilliants, in the 
heavenly radiance of the dawn. 

■ — Translated by R. B. Townshend,. 


A WARM welcome, I should say, awaits a volume of 
Disraeli's poHtical writings which Mr. Murray is bring- 
ing out as a supplement to the authorised " Life," two 
volumes of which have been published. Disraeli in 
his earher years plied a busy and withal pungent 
journalistic pen. Some of his more important articles 
appeared in the Times and the Morning Post, the 
authorship of which has hitherto remained a secret. 
These contributions will be included in the volume, 
together with the well-known "Runnymede Letters," 
the "Vindication of the English Constitution," and 
other matter of literary and historical interest Pos- 
sibly the volume may not show us Disraeli in any fresh 
light, but, inasmuch as it contains writings of his which 
have not come under the eye of the present generation, 
it can hardly be without biographic value. 

» • » • • 

If we are not conversant with every detail of the 
Panama Canal and its potential value long before it 
opens, it won't be the fault of the journahsts who have 
been " writing it up " for a considerable time. Re- 
cently I noted the fact that the literature on the sub- 
ject is growing fast. Two volumes have appeared 
during the past few weeks, and now I am notified of a 
third. The writer is Miss Winifred James, who is well 
known by her " Letters to My Son." Miss James has 
just returned from a long voyage to the West Indies 
and Panama, where, among many interesting sights, 
she saw the canal in the making. The volume, which 
bears the somewhat vague title of " The Mulberry 
Tree," is to be published by Messrs. Chapman and 

• • • • • 

When Livingstone returned from Africa in 1 864, in 
order chiefly to write his book, " The Zambesi and its 
Tributaries," he was invited by Mr. W. F. Webb, who 

'ItAT J, I9I) 



had accompanied him on one of his journeys, to reside 
at Newstead Abbey. The invitation was accepted, 
and in that " splendid old mansion," with its memories 
of Byron, the explorer spent some of the happiest days 
of his life. His associations with the place are recalled 
in a book which one of Mr. Webb's daughters is pub- 
lishing, under the title of " Livingstone and Newstead." 
One of the rooms in the Sussex tower of Newstead 
is called the " Livingstone Room." 

• • • « • 

In " The Old Road," Mr. Hilaire Belloc proved his 
power of investing topographical description with at 
once the charm of historical association and the human 
interest of its present-day aspect. His latest volume, 
which Messrs. Constable are publishing, is on similar 
lines. " The Stane Street," as it is appropriately 
called, traces the old road from London Bridge to 
Chichester in its progress through some of the most 
beautiful bits of country in England. The volume is 
to have illustrations in black and white by Mr. Wilham 

• • • » * 

The late Sir Hugh Macdonell had so long and varied 
a diplomatic career that I shall be surprised if the 
volume of reminiscences which his widow is bringing 
out does not prove both entertaining and instructive. 
Sir Hugh was British Minister to Brazil, Derunark, and 
Portugal, and he held secretaryships at Rome, Berlin, 
Madrid, Munich, and Buenos Ayres. Moreover, he 
came into contact with many famous men and women, 
and saw much of the life of the South American re- 
pubhcs hfty years ago. Lady Macdonell's book will 
be entitled " Reminiscences of Diplomatic Life." 

• • « « « 

Messrs. Constable announce a volume of essays 
entitled " Sidelights," from the pen of Lady Blenner- 
hassett, the widow of the well-known political writer. 
The contents consist of a series of historical vignettes 
and character studies, which are said to exhibit Lady 
Blennerhassett as at once a well-informed and capable 
descriptive writer. The same firm is publishing an 
account of the Mexican Revolution of 1910, from the 
pen of an eye-witness- — Mr. Hugh B. C. Pollard. 

• • • « • 

To my mind the popularisation of theological litera- 
ture is one of the problems of the publishing world. 
I am glad, therefore, to note that Messrs. Macmillan 
are about to wrestle with it,- and shall await with in- 
terest the result. The lirm has in preparation a 
" Shilhng Theological Library," which is intended to 
bring within the reach of everyone a number of works 
by well-known authors not readily accessible in their 
present form. A few books will be included that have 
already been reissued in shilling form, such as Dean 
Farrar's " Eternal Hope," but to these will be added 
other volumes by such writers of a past generation as 
Charles Kingsley ("Village Sermons," etc.). Dean 
Church, Bishop Westcott, Dr. Hort, and Phillips 
Brooks. These are all writers, or, rather, preachers, 
that count, and if their works do not appeal to the 
shilling public, certainly no others will. 

• • • • • 

Mr. Werner Laurie will have ready next month 
" The Correspondence of Gold win Smith," selected and 
edited by his literary executor and secretary, Mr. 
Arnold Haultain, who has added a bibliography of 
Goldwin Smith's various writings. The correspondence 
includes letters from Lord Rosebery, Mr. Chamberlain, 
Gladstone, Bright, the late Lord Sahsbury, and many 
other celebrities. X. Y. Z. 

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376 to 384, Oxford St., London, W. 


The COLLECTED WORKS of Francis Tlicmpson will be 
published this month : the Poetry in two volumes, the prose in 
one. Demy 8vo, printed at the Arden Press, on rag paper, special 
buckram, bevelled boards, gilt, with portraits in photogravure, 
6s. net each (sold separately). A handsome PROSPECTUS, 
printed in red end black, with specimen pages and reproductions 
of three fine Portraits of the Poet (two of them unpublished), 
will be sent post free on request. 

N.B. — The first two volumes will include a large number of 
poems of the first importance, here for the first time printed or 
gathered together. The prose is almost entirely new to book-form. 


Mrs. Meynell's COLLECTED POEMS in one volume, wiA' 
■ Portrait by John S. Sargent, R.A., will be published on Miy 
12th. This will contain, besides "Pcems" (which have passed 
through ten editions) and "Later Poems" (now also out of 
print), an important section of new work. A few copies of 
the first impression are still unsubscribed. Buckram gilt, 5s. net. 





Mat >, 191} 


said LORD HALDANE, "is to ask the 
highest, the best. It is possible, if you 
have genius, to appeal to almost every- 
body." This is the genius of the 
only the best, it appeals to every- 
body who wishes to be anybody. 
70 Vols, now ready. Price Is. net each. 

Of all booksellers. Write for Illustrated Descriptive List, post 
free, from 

WILLIAMS & NORGATE, 14, Henrietta Street, W.C. 




ARE : 


Ths Editor. 

Cardinal Mercisk. 

On Sale al all Railvcav Bookstalls and W. H. Smith S Son's Depots. 



MOTORISTS ! TOURISTS! Busy people in general, whose time is money, 

should not visit France or Italy without immediately procuring a copy of 

Augusta Ayliffe's Languages for Busy People. 

3/6 net. "TIME IS MONEY." 3/6 net. 

In French. English. Italian {side by side). 

(N.B.— The Italian translation is by Professor Emma Davio, Rome.) 

" A practical guide for foreigners without any ridiculous sentences." 

— New York Herald, Parts. 
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and Italy, and vice-versa to natives of these Latin countries in England." 

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And how to Distinguish a Good Novel from a. Bad On« 

C— The Study of Style. 
After the subject and the plot you will have to 
examine the qualities and defects of the style. I am 
quite aware that of all the elements of the literary 
art, style is by far the most subtle and the most elusive. 
Indeed, the more perfect the style, the more elusive 
it is likely to be. As in the case of those incomparable 
masters of the written word, Charles Lamb and Robert 
Louis Stevenson, the fascination of the style may be 
inseparably bound up with the personality of the 

(a) At the same time, it is always advisable, and 
even necessary, to take a systematic survey of the 
general characteristics of the style of any particular 
novel. That style may be clear or it may be obscure, 
it may be terse or it may be prosy and overlaid with 
detail, it may be rythmical or it may be unmusical, it 
may be vivid and metaphorical or it may be abstract. 
Its vocabulary may be simple, drawing mainly on the 
well of English undefiled, or its vocabulary may be 
erudite, drawing mainly on words of Latin and French 

(b) But after studying those general characteristics 
of style which are common to all literary work, we 
shall, above all, have to ask ourselves for each par- 
ticular novel, whether the style is appropriate to the 
special subject or to the characters of the book. Some 
writers maJce all their characters speak in the same 
uniform or monotonous way. Mr. Bernard Shaw 
makes even his dull people burst out in brilliant 
epigram. Other writers, like Jane Austen, make even 
their rustics use "elegant" phraseology. But the 
really great artists — George Eliot, Balzac, Tolstoy — 
who-have the sense of life and the sense of reality, will 
choose the accent, the vocabulary, the mannerisms, 
even the dialect best adapted to the individuaUty of 
each character ; whether we take Mrs. Tulliver in the 
" Mill on the Floss," or Mme. Cibot in " Cousin Pons," 
or Countess Rostoff in " War and Peace," it is impos- 
sible to mistake the peculiarities of their language. 

D. — The Study of the Characters. 
Last, not least, we have minutely to analyse the 
chief characters of the novel 

(a) The characters may be either unreal, lay figures, 
of which the author merely pulls the wires, mere 
mouthpieces expressing the opinions of the writer, as 
in many didactic novels written with a purpose. Or the 
characters will be true to life, veritable creations of art, 
each stamped with a complex individuality of its own. 

(b) Again, characters may be interesting, arresting ; 
they may have a strong and original personality, as 
almost every character of Tolstoy or Balzac or 
Thackeray. Or the characters may be commonplace 
and superficial, as many of the types of Jane Austen, 
and not a few of the female characters of Sir Walter 

(c) Again, characters may be unchanging and 
stereotyped from beginning to end. They may learn 
nothing from the successes or failures of life. Or they 
may develop and grow ; they may gradually be formed 
and transformed by experience. Thus we see " Cousin 
Pons " slowly disillusioned by the wickedness and sel- 
fishness of his mean and sordid surroundings. Thus 
we see Natasha, in " War and Peace," transformed by 
suffering into an entirely different woman from the 
impulsive and light-hearted girl at the beginning. 

Mat 3, :5i3 



Thus we see even the. wildly idealistic Don Quixote 
imperceptibly influenced by the practical common 
sense of Sancho Panza. 

(d) And, finally, the characters may all go their own 
separate ways ; they may move independently -of each 
other. Or one character may continuously act and re- 
act on the other. The art of the novel writer largely 
consists in so bringing his characters together that 
their mutual relations and conflicts shall reveal their 
personality, and so to arrange his plot that circum- 
stances and events will bring out those vices and 
virtues which the artist intends to stamp on our 
imagination. ., 

To sura up my argument, and to present tlie sub- 
ject more vividly and more concretely to the reader, I 
would hke to state in tabular form some of the most 
important points which have to come up for considera- 
tion in any systematic study of the novel : — 
3 — Study of the Subject. 

(a) Is the subject trivial and commonplace, or is 
it vital and universal? 

(b) Is the subject of transient or is it of per- 
manent importance? 

(c) Is the author sympathetic or unsympathetic 
to his subject ? 

2. — Study of the Plot or Story. 

(a) Is the interest concentrated on one plot, or 
is it distracted by a duality or multiplicity of 
plots ? 

(b) Is the plot natural or artificial and far- 

(c) Is the plot skilfully or clumsily constructed? 

(d) Is the purpose aimless and purposeless, or is 
it so constructed as to reveal the characters of the 
novel ? 

2,.— Style. 

(a) Is the style clear or obscure, simple or in- 
volved, vivid or abstract, terse or prolix? 

lb) Is the style or dialogue appropriate both to 
the subject and to the characters? 
4. — Study of Character. 

(a) .-^re the characters mere lay figures and 
literary automata, or are the characters true to 

(b) Are the characters commonplace and unin- 
teresting, or have they a marked personality? 

(c) .A-re the characters invariable all through the 
novel, or do they grow and develop with the 
unfolding of the plot? 

(d) Do the characters move independently the 
one of the other, or is there mutual action and 
reaction ? 

We have briefly outlined some of the essential 
points which have to be analysed before we can even 
attempt to formulate a competent judgment on the 
literary value of a novel. The method which I have 
defmed may sound, at first sight, mechanical and 
scholastic. It may seem a hopelessly inadequate 
means of getting at the inner meaning of a literary 
masterpiece. And it is true, no doubt, that even the 
best method is necessarily a very imperfect instru- 
ment, and that tlie value of the instrument must 
largely depend on the brain which uses it. I can only 
say that, having tried some such definite method for 
many years in tlie teaching of thousands of young 
men 'and women, I have invariably derived the most 
practical and the most excellent results. Again and 
again my pupils have admitted to me that it was this 
systematic analysis of literary masterpieces, on the 
lines described, which first trained their critical 
faculty, which first opened their eyes to the beauties 
and miperfections of literary masterpieces. 



Indispensable Guide to the Art of 
Public Speaking. 

To one man the chance of making a speech affords the oppor- 
tunity for an enhanced reputation ; to another it is nothing but 
a dangej-. For the man who stutters and stammers, and finally 
sits down after a speech principally consisting of "ums" and 
"ers" scarcely enhances his reputation as a keen-witted member 
of the community, or as a man whose intelligence and resource 
can be depended upon in a business crisis. 

For that reason, the publication of "The Book of Public 
Speaking " is an event of the greatest in>portance. For it is the 
first comprehensive work upon this important subject ever pub- 
lished in this country. It provides at once a collection of the 
greatest speeches of the world's greatest orators, and at the same 
time a reliable guide to the Art of Public Speaking, written by 
men who are themselves famous as speakers of the highest merit. 

How to Speak in Public. 

These articles and their contributors include : — 
on "How to Make an Effective 
Speech " ; 


(the well-known Actor), 

on "How to Prepare and Deliver 

a Speech " ; 


(U.S.A, Consul-Gcneral, London), 
on " After-Dinner Speaking"; 

But " The Book of Public Speaking -' is of the greatest interest 
even for the man who never has to speak in public, because it 
presents for the first time an entirely new form of literature of 
enthralling interest. Its handsome covers contain the cream of 
the greatest speeches of modern times. 

The World's Greatest Speeches. 

There is hardly an orator of note of recent years who is not 
represented in the work ; there is scarcely a subject of impor- 
tance or of interest that is not dealt with in some one or more of 
the speeches. Political Speeches, Religious -Addresses, After- 
Dinner Speeches, Scientific and Literary Lectures— all have been 
brought together to form a work of enthralling interest to all 
intelligent people. Among the great speakers whose speeches 
are included in the work are : — 


(Presidenl oJ Magdalene College, 

on " The Art of Lecturing " ; 


(Barrister-at-Law) , 
on "The Conduct of and Pro- 
cedure at Meetings" ; 


A. C. Fox-Davies (Barrister-at-Law) 

Lord Rosebery 
Lord Beaconsfield 
H. H. Asquilh 
A. J. Balfour 
W. E. Gladstone 
Sir Edward Clarke 
Andrew Lang 
D. Lloyd Ge'irge 
Winston Churchill 
Mark Twa n 
Spencer Leigh Hughes 
Sir Henry Irving 

Joseph Chamberlain 
Max O'Rell 
R. Waklo Emerson 
Harold Cox 
Woodrow Wilson 
G. Bernard Shaw 
Charles Dickens 
John Bright 
Chaunccy Depew 
Sir A. Conan Doyle 
Sir Edward Grey 
Earl Halsbury 

Lord Fisher 
Abraham Lincoln 
Justin McCarthy 
Viscount .Milner 
M. Poincare 
Whitelaw Reid 
TlieoJore Roosevelt 
Philip Snowden 
Ian Maclaren 
.■\ugustine Birrell 
Sir A. W. P;nero 
Etc., etc. 

For the Public Speaker. 

The value of the work to the Public Speaker ran hardly bo 
over-estimated. Each one of the speeches included in the work 
serves as a model for the construction of a successful speech that 
can be studied with advantage by the practised speaker and the 
novice alike. 


The Publishers have prepared an interesting Illustrated 
Booklet— which they will send free— describing the work and 
their offer to deliver the complete work as published for a first 
payment of is. 6d. only, the balance being paid by small monthly 

To the Caxton Publishing Co., Ltd., 

244, Surrey Street, London, W.C. 
Please send me, free of charge and without any obligation on 
my part, full particulars of "The Book of Public Speaking." 


(Send this form or a po3tcar4.) 




Kat •, <»i] 



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suit, you should send it to Achille Serre, who 
specialize in the treatment of Men's Clothes ajid 
make old suits look new, and new suits keep new. 

3/9 is our fixed charge. 

Write for Ittusirated Booklet and address of nearest 

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Carriage paid one way on all orders sent direct. 

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Hackney Wick, London, E. 


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Notice to Correspondents. — Owing to the large number 
of letters received it is necessary for correspondents to write 
briefly »/ their letters are to appear. 

To the Editor of Everyman. 

Sir, — Your correspondent, Mrs. J. Stark, is surely 
claiming too much for Greece and leaving quite out of 
account some unpleasant realities in. the picture of old- 
world pagan life. iHer enthusiasm for her idealised 
Plellenic world betrays her into strange exaggera- 
tions, as, for instance, such a statement as that " the 
Greeks were as far above us intellectually as we are 
above the negroes." 

" The most important function of the State," she 
tells us, " was to see that each citizen had an oppor- 
tunity of developing his capacities to the utmost." She 
does not say " each man and woman," and she omits 
to remind us — perhaps she has herself not realised — 
that the citizens were a small class, whose leisure and 
opportunities for culture and enjoyment depended on 
the existence of a large slave population. In the 
great days of the Athenian State there were probably 
three slaves to every free citizen. There was a 
flourishing slave trade throughout the Hellenic East 
All the fine talk of freedom had no application to 
these " hewers of wood and drawers of water," and the 
greatest of Greek philosophers argued that certain 
men were made by nature to be slaves, others to be 

It is surely misleading to dwell on the undoubted 
excellences of the Greek and leave out of account the 
other elements in Greek pagan life that were factors 
in the destiny of the race. Your correspondent's 
letter is a protest against the assertion that the Greek 
was prone to sensuous enjoyment. But this is the 
plain fact. The privileged class of slave-owning citi- 
zens, with their ample leisure and keen sense of 
physical beauty, and no ideals such as tend to safe- 
guard Christian peoples, accepted sensuality as a part 
of normal human life, despite the protests of some of 
their philosophers. Monogamy existed, it is true, but 
there was a wide licence even for the married citizen, 
and, while the Wife was uneducated, the hetaira had 
often a smattering of literary culture as part of her 
equipment Vice of a more odious kind, such as we 
do not even name, was rife among the men. It is 
attributed to some of those whose names were remem- 
bered in connection with heroic deeds, and this with- 
out any idea that it was a stain on their characters. 
As Lecky says in his " History of European Morals," 
there were practices among pagans that centuries of 
Christendom have made us regard as all but impossible 
horrors. We know from what remains of Greek 
comedy, and from the representations of comic actors * 
on the vases, what brutal unveiled foulness was char- 
acteristic of this department of the theatre. 

And we know from the story of the downfall of 
Greece how soon true patriotism, citizenship, and man- 
liness departed from the Greek race ; how the cities no 
longer sent out their citizens to war, but trusted their 
defence to slaves and mercenaries ; how easily poli- 
ticians were bribed, and how the name of the rhetor 
became a byword of reproach. 

The Greek has been a contributor to the sum of 
European civihsation. No one denies this. But it 
was from Palestine and from Nazareth that the best 
and highest teaching came to us. It was not from the 
Greek that the world learned the Fatherhood of God 
and the brotherhood of men. It was not from the 
Greek that we derived the idea of a freedom that is 

Kat m, S91] 



the birthright of every class and every individual. It 
was not from the Greek we learned our Christian 
code of honour to womanhood. War is still a blot on 
our civilisation, but even here the Christian ideal has 
changed the whole aspect of the conflict between 
nations. For the Greek victor the defeated side had 
no rights. Reckless and vengeful slaughters were the 
sequel of victory. Prisoners might be massacred or 
enslaved for life. Women were valuable booty. 
Under Christian influence even war has lost its worst 
horrors, and the Red Cross flag, flying in token of the 
duty of all to respect and succour the victims of the 
strife, whether friend or foe, is the symbol of one more 
of the triumphs of Christianity. — I am, sir, etc., 

London. A. Hilliard Atteridge. 

To the Editor of Everym.'\n. 

Sir, — Mr. Bland, in his article, seems to find the 
cause of brain development wholly in the stress of life 
common to all biological species, to bee as to man. 

Is that quite assured? Did we seek cause for the 
marked individual development in such valid instances 
as, say, those of Bums, Goethe, and Shakespeare, it 
would seem certain we should have to recognise a 
factor of an entirely opposite character, hedonic, in 
fact. Even in so unpromising an instance as the case 
of Carlyle there lies, in that singular episode of " Teu- 
felsdrochk made immortal by a kiss " (in the " Two- 
good-and-Blumine business "), more than a suspicion of 
hedonic juice about that sudden bite at half-ripe 

If "struggle," indeed, be a factor — and I do not 
presume to gainsay that — may it not be necessarily in 
an equation with "joy," strong interaction between 
pain and pleasure being an indispensable dual condi- 
tion ? 

The bee matriarchy, with its incessant labour 
and lethal proclivities, has developed instinct to a mar- 
vellous perfection approximating human intelligence, 
but it has not developed a brain of cerebral or other 
distinction. This is the more notable since in its 
sexual economy it appears in all respects the opposite 
of mankind — in which the male has subjugated the 
female peculiarly and, perhaps, more completely than 
in any other species. In this present question, as well 
as in others current to-day, one thing most urgently 
needed is sane authentic statement of the first prin- 
ciples of sexual economy in the case of komo sapiens. 
—I am, sir, etc., JOHN C. NORWOOD. 


To the Editor of Everym.w. 

Sir, — May I encroach on your valuable space to 
point out two errors made by Mr. Hermann in his 
interesting article on Australia, published in your issue 
of April 1 8th? 

In talking of the various State capitals, he says: 
" Fremantle is a derehct city, the stream of life 
having deflected to Perth, which is the real capital of 
Western Australia. . . ." 

Apparently he is ignorant of the fact that, firstly, 
Perth has been the capital of Western Australia ever 
since the foundation of the colony, and, secondly, that 
Fremantle, so far from being "derelict," has a popu- 
lation of some 25,000 souls, and is one of the busiest 
ports in the Commonwealth. — I am, sir, etc., 

Londoa Mervyn Davies. 


By T. G. Rutherford. 

THIS is the age of pictures, and photography is playing 
by far the biggest part in the production of those' pic- 
tures. Slowly but surely the picture pap»T is grow^ 
ing. The sales of papers like the Daily Sketch and the 
Daily Mirror have grown to huge proportions. .Staid, old- 
established journals like the Daily Telegraph ntjw publish 
photogmphs where, a few years back, nothing but reading 
matter appeared. In Fleet Street there ia talk of a new all- 
picture Sunday paper being launched. The big weeklies, 
like the Sphere, the Graphic, the Sketch, Country Life, the 
Taller, Bystander, and others, are crammed, full of photo- 
graphic pictures. The Illustrated Loudon News gave away 
a facsimile of its first issue the other day. That issue con- 
sisted almost entirely of type matter, peppered ever so spar- 
ingly with little wood-block pictures. The current issue of 
the Illustrated London News contains a few bare inches of 
type matter, and all the rest is made-up of pictures'— mostly 

Only this week one of the most celebrated music-hall 
rnanagers said that the present-day music-hall was being 
killed by the cinematograph pictures. Picture palaces are 
cropping up in every street, and are filled to overflowing. 

But the supply Jails a long way short of the demand. 
True, there are plenty of photographs to be had, but nott 
nearly enough of the right kind. If you could see an Art 
Editor at work you would soon know why so many pictures 
are unsuitable. One after another they come, dull, unin- 
teresting, hackneyed, until the Editorial e5'e lights upon a 
print that has obvious news interest. Instantly it is seized 
upon and rushed off to the block makers, and the lucky 
producer sees his picture in print, and, moreover, gets well 
paid for it. 

Any man, or any woman, with a camera can make money 
provided they will only take the trouble to get the right 
sort of prints. There is only one way open to acquire this 
knowledge, and that is by training and working under the 
direction of men who know, by their daily work, what 
subjects are wanted and why they possess value. 

The amateur photographer can only obtain this know- 
ledge through the Press Photography Course of the Prac- 
tical Correspondence College, 77, Thanet House, Strand;. 
W.C. This course has been prepared by a man who really 
understands the work, and has made a notable success with 
his pictures. It is conducted by experts in photographic 
work who are in touch with the illustrated press and know 
intimately the ever-changing requirement?. Students receive 
long personal letters on their work, criticisms of their prints, 
and assistance that cannot be obtained through any other 
channel. They are shown how to make their pictures profit- 
aisle, what kind of subjects to take, how to take tliem, and 
why they should be taken. 

The lessons are chock full of hints, instruction, and 
reasons why things should be done. Information of this sort 
cannot be published in book form for obvious reasons, and 
even if it were, the average amateur could not apply it unless 
he was constantly in touch with the instructor. 

The P.C.C. has been established so long, and has been 
so successful with its students, that it does not care to enrol 
anyone who has no chance of making money by the course. 
It asks, therefore, that prospective students shoiild .send halff 
a dozen of their average photographs to the College, so that 
an estimate can be formed of the capabilities of the would-be 

These prints are criticised and returned directly, and am 
illustrated book, telling all about the course, is forwarded* 
at the same time. The fees are low, but it must be distinctly 
understood that the college will not enrol any student unless, 
the Directors consider that his work is up to the standari^ 



Uat 1, isiij 


Quickly Renews Vigour and Vitality, 
and Restores Health and Strength. 

Thousands of readers will be glad to learn of a wonderful new 
medical discovery which quickly renews vigour and vitality, over- 
comes the weakness of old age, and restores the full powers of 
superb manhood and glorious womanhood. 

This new remedy (called Osogen) is composed of Sequard serum 
and the Glycerophosphates so often prescribed by Sir William 
Broadbent, K.C.V.O., M.D.. F R.S., Physician to His late Majesty 
King Edward VII. It is supplied to Royalty, and thousands of 
medical men recognise its wonderful curative and vigour-giving 
power in cases of 

Lost Vitality 
Premature Old Age 
General Debility 
"Run Down "Feeling 
Lo3s of WiU Power 

Want of Self -Confidence 


Weak Memory 



Kidney Disorders 

Osogen is of marvellous value to the aged, or the prematurely 
aged and weak from overwork or illness. Those easily fatigued can 
undergo the most strenuous exertion with ease if a small quantity is 
taken before commencing work. When tired or worn out, a few 
drops quickly cause a return of energy and revival of spirits. 

A correspondent from Gainsborough writes : 

"Osogen is marvellous. After using only a little more 
than one bottle I already feel 10 years younger. My sleep 
is sound and dreamless, and^ am stronger in every way." 


There is no need for any man or woman to slay weak. Osoaen will give yon 
strength and vigour, a flawless dige live system, rich blood, and a reserve fund 
of vitality sufficient to meet all demands. 

By the laws of nature you should be strong, active, and healthy until you are 
eighty. If you are weak, nervous, and debilitated let Osogen give you a new 
nerve and vital power. Obtain a boitle or more by using the coupon below. 
Take a few drops daily and watch results. 

Quickly you will foel its effect. A sensation of strength will take the place of 
that "tired feeling " Depression will vanish and self-confidence will be restored. 
You will again possess the health and powers that mark a manly man or 
fascinating woman. 


Because hundreds of inquiries are still coming to hand, it has bpen decided to 
allot a further limited supply of Osogen for distribution. 5.000 bottles (2s. 9d. 
sUe) have been set aside, and any reader who has not yet tested Osogen is entitled 
to one of these bottles. 

You can obtain one of these 2s. 9d. size bottles of Osogen by posting tha 
coupon below with a Is. 3d P.O. to the Osogen Co. 

The bottle is not a mere trial size, but a full seven days* treatment 
ike price of which is 2s 9d. 

To avoid a break in the treatment foreign and colonial readers are advised to 
send 123. 6d., when a full Us. size, in addition to the 2s. 9d. size offered, will 
be sent. 

To obtain the first ?s. 9d. size bottle of Osogen by return write your name and 
address on the coupon below, and post with Is. 3d. P.0> to 40. The Osogen 
Laboratories, b8. Chancery Lane, London. W.C. 



83, Chancery Lane. LoadoD. W.C. 

I have never used " Osogen." Please send me a full 2s. 9d. size 
bottle and descriptive literature. I enclose Is. 3d. 



N.B.— Only one bottle to each family at the Is. 3d. price. Further 
supplies post free 2s. 9d. per bottle, or 3 times Zs. 9d. size. lis. 


To the Editor of Everyman. 

Sir, — Will you allow me to suggest a small correc- 
tion for Mr. E. Hermann's able article on Australia? 
Artesian water subsists only under land which is not 
likely to become arable for many years, and, conse- 
quently, the person who " pins his faith " to artesian 
water bores is not the agriculturist, but the pastoralist 
or " squatter " ; in the immediate future the former is 
more likely to be benefited by dry-farming, which de- 
pends on the conservation of rain-water in the soil, and 
by irrigation from the storage of river-water. It is 
questionable whether artesian water will ever have 
an effect on agriculture at all proportional to its im- 
portance to the pastoralist. 

This said, I should like to congratulate your con- 
tributor on the penetration displayed in his judgments 
and the felicity of his phrasing. As regards the life 
and character of Sydney, he has contrived to say 
le mot juste in a way that has never before found ex- 
pression. A man hailing from that city, who is an 
intimate friend of mine — one notices that this is a 
formula often used in the public Press to avoid an 
appearance of egotism— was so moved by Mr. Her- 
mann's words that he cross-examined his fellow- 
lodgers in a certain house to see if their conception 
of himself in particular afforded corroborative evidence 
of the statements made in general by Mr. Hermann. 
The verdicts on the various counts were as follows : — 
" Relaxed and seductive grace " — exemphfied ; 
hedonistic tendency " and " artistic instincts " — both 
Strongly exemplified ; " scant capacity for moral indig- 
nation " — exemplified ; " fundamentally British, yet 
strangely un-British," but " more unlike any southern 
type than it is unlike the British " — these characteris- 
tics were allowed, as was also the "fierce inde- 
pendence," coupled with a tendency to "leaning" 
against walls. Governments, or even other people on 
occasion. The " subject " under investigation^ pri- 
vately and severally informed certain members of his 
jury that these latter traits, in his opinion, were not 
unknown in England, more noticeably among the 
female sex. However, as to the portents of disaster 
inherent, according to Mr. Hermann, in all these cate- 
gories, he maintained that indulgence in alarm is pure 
waste of emotion. The Australian, though tolerant, 
has never given sign of weakness of will or moral 
fibre, and however languorous in attitude he may seem 
it is only " in loco," for in reality he is constantly doing 
or enduring with the best. He has as keen a sense 
of what matters as any one alive, and if that involves 
strenuousness, or grit, or the breaking of records in 
club-swinging, like Mr. T. Burrows, he will generally 
deliver the goods. — Yours, etc., E. R. GarNSEY. 

Authors' Club. 

To the Editor of Everyman. 

Sir, — I was much interested in the letters of my 
friend, Mr. Finch, and of Mr. Nicholson, which ap- 
peared in your last issue under the heading of " Enter- 
prise in Business." Mr. Finch asks you for a clear 
presentation of the objections to the Socialist solution 
of the social question, stating that this would be useful 
to those who are interested in the subject. Now the 
matter appeals to me in an altogether different light 
Those of us who have studied the question to any 
extent at all, and are following contemporary events 
throughout the world, whether we be Socialists or not, 
know full well that some form of collectivism is in the 
end inevitable. The tendency to association, as op- 
posed to competition, is everywhere apparent, and 





thus it seems to me that, instead of seeking for the 
objections to Socialism, we might rather assist in its 
proper and most desirable development. We should 
thus be doing more useful service than in seeking to 
pick out the objections to what must at some future 
time come, whether we desire it or not, because evolu- 
tion will have its course, despite what a few indivi- 
duals might themselves desire ; and mutual aid, in 
other words the ideal of Socialism, is the great factor 
in evolution, as eminent students have shown us. 

The majority of anti-Socialists are, 1 believe, willing 
to admit that the ideal of Socialism is desirable of at- 
tainment, but hold that economically it is impractic- 
able and unworkable. But I prefer to believe with 
Mr. Philip Snowden when he uttered the now memor- 
able words, " What is morally right cannot be 
economically wrong." When more people see this 
the Socialist State will not be very far distant. — I am, 
sir, etc., GEORGE A. GREENWOOD. 

Batley Carr, Batley. 

To the Editor cj Evervmax. 

Sir, — As an ordinary working man, unversed in 
many of the arguments used by your contributors to 
this discussion, may 1 state some aspects of the case as 
they appeal to me ? " Enterprise in Business " may 
mean much, but it surely means a continuation of the 
present capitalist system, which, by a simple test, has 
failed, in my opinion. The failure is illustrated by the 
wreckage and waste of human hfe which is so evident 
in the midst of civilisation to-day, especially in Chris- 
tian countries. " Enterprise in Business " means busi- 
ness with a big B. The big B in business, all 
through the history of commercial development in 
civilised countries, has usually meant the profits for the 
few, the strong triumphant over the weak, the oppres- 
sion of the poor by the rich, and the negation of all 
efforts towards international brotherhood. Socialism 
alone, to my perhaps limited outlook, appears the only 
system whereby it is claimed that security to every man 
for the means of livelihood is assured in a civilised 

It would be better for all society, as now consti- 
tuted, to come fo an end if its weaker members are 
to continue to linger out the wretched existence to 
which so many millions are condemned. 

The capitalist system, with its " Enterprise in Busi- 
ness," appears to be oblivious of the fate of these mil- 
lions, and its upholders display a like apathy in regard 
to their condition, except in so far as their actions 
jeopardise the profits of " enterprise." 

" Enterprise in Business " means more wretchedness 
for these submerged members of socifety. Socialism 
offers the only hope of solving the problem presented 
by this vast mass of suffering humanity. Your con- 
tributor, Margaret Hamilton, shows to what a depth 
" Enterprise in Business " can descend. I presume 
the " sweaters " she mentions in this week's article 
would be, and are, called enterprising captains of 
industry when they have " made their pile " and are re- 
ceived in some sections of Christian ( ?) society. Is a 
system that allows such atrocities to be perpetrated in 
its name worthy of further defence ? — I am, sir, etc., 

Shirley, near Birmingham. A. Stokes. 

To the Editor 0} Evervm.w. 

Sir, — May I take the liberty of writing a few words 
in connection with Mr. J. R. Clynes's article, " The Use 
of Books to Working Men " ? On seeing this title I 
expected to find a sympathetic and reasonable study 
of this branch of the poor man's life ; on the contrary, 

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I found ah exjjosition which, for inconsistency, for 
prejudice, and utter blindness of judgment, would be 
hard to exceed. 

Does Mr. dynes really think that for the working 
man, when " really tired of work, to sit and secure the 
dehghts of a ' Path to Rome,' " would solace that man 
for his hours of sweated slavery, his blood-pittance of, 
perhaps, 1 2s. a week on which to keep a wife and dozen 
little ones? If this is the remedy for treating the 
great question of "the eternal poor," then by all 
means let us encourage the distribution of free 
libraries in England's worst districts, where the work- 
ing man may obtain Shakespeare or Balzac to while 
away his leisure hours. 

" To elevate, educate," by all means ; but the intel- 
lectual powers lie low when the body is half-clad and 
half -starved. Feed and clothe the body ; then the 
natural improving and elevating of the mind will 

I notice that Mr. Clynes points out the one danger 
of his proposal, in that labour unrest would be in- 
creased ; but this, according to him, we must not 
allow. The animal must keep to his servile state, 
though he become a perfect Cicero of knowledge. 

I would recommend Mr. Clynes to read the oppos- 
ing article on the following page, " The Sweated 
Worker " — read of women stitching buttonholes at 6d. 
a gross, and making suits and coats for 2d. or 4d. 

That the possibiHty of, and even desire for, cultiure 
amongst the working classes is great I do not deny. I 
have seen a labourer reading " Pickwick Papers " in a 
tramcar with as much zest as might Mr. J. R. Clynes 
himself ; but let the social betterment of the poor 
come first, and the helping hand held out to " feed, 
clothe, and love." — I am, sir, etc., D. M. T. 

Finsbury Park. , 

To the Editor of Everyman. 

Sir, — It is amazing tlmt Mr. Clynes should com- 
mence an article which expounds such a valuable 
thesis with a suggestion thai shows him to ignore 
one of the first principles of education, viz., that if 
any subject is to be studied to real and lasting 
benefit, then the student must have a real affection 
for that subject Mr. Clynes would like to see Parha- 
ment pass a law compelling all working men to read 
"Shakespeare, Shaw, Balzac, and Morris." 

Now, leaving aside the fact that this would be a 
mental and physical impossibihty to the majority of 
working men, is it not a truism that coercion is the 
quickest road to hatred ? I can imagine nothing more 
likely to cause working men to hate the very name of 
these writers than the practical enforcement of Mr. 
Clynes's suggestion. 

Nevertheless, it is highly desirable that the nation's 
Senate should bear their part in encouraging the work- 
ing man's studies. Much has been done by Univer- 
sity extension lectures, by work similar to that of 
Morley College, etc., but now it would certainly be to 
everybody's advantage if Parliament would follow up 
the lead thus given. 

May I suggest that, instead of passing a coercive 
law. Parliament would fulfil Mr. Clynes's demands in a 
much better way by appointing a Literary Commission 
to organise a system of permanent public literary dis- 
putations. Let them be established in every town, 
with subdivisions if necessary. Let every inducement 
be given to any man who desires to improve himself, 
e.g., in the way of prizes for essays or speeches, the 
publication of any creditable productions of the men 
themselves, etc. And let those who manage the insti- 
tution remember that all knowledge and upraising and 

IlAT *, l»>3 



iexpansion of mind does not necessarily come from 
book-learning. Many a working man could learn a 
far deeper lesson from Watts's picture of the " Court 
of Death " than from all the plays of Shakespeare. 

It will be seen that what I recommend is a kind of 
authorised popular Polytechnic, or a National Forum. 
No doubt the details of such a scheme would be multi- 
tudinous, and the work required to inaugurate it 
tremendous. Nevertlieless, I am convinced that the 
principle of this idea is the only one by means of 
which Parliament can hojje to give any real encourage- 
ment to the working man's studies. — I am, sir, etc., 

John B. Howard. 

To the Editor of Everyman. 

Dear Sir, — My scanty education at an elementary 
school left me with somewhat distorted ideas of Crom- 
well, which facile priests and fanatical partisans had 
taken pains to inculcate. In maturer years I became 
acquainted with the " divine simplicity " of Carlyle, 

^and since have been further influenced by the " com- 
missioned glamour " of such writers as S. R. Gardiner, 
Frederic Harrison, John Morley, and Lord Rosebery. 
I am now wondering what must be the state of mind 
of a learned professor who cannot write a brief article 
on The .^neid for EVERYMAN without dragging in 
the Great Englishman to bespatter him with such 
epithets as "' self-seeking despot," " bully," and 
"morally leprous with hypocrisy." And he talks of 
" a certain snobbism " too ! — I am, sir, etc., 
April 28, 19 1 3. Commonwealth. 

^^r ^^' t^^ 


" My songs are not of great things, nor of sorrowful things 
either ; 
But only of what my life brings, and it brings to me of 

With this great thought Mr. John Spencer Muirhcad 
opens the " proem " to THE QuiET SPIRIT (Simpkin, 
Marshall and Co., 2s. 6d.). The verses in this volume 
are not characterised by grace of expression or clarity 
of thought. Mr. Muirhead's metaphors are sadly 
mixed, and his pictures are obviously out of perspec- 
tive. We are introduced to what may be " futurist " 
poetry, but which carries no conviction to anyone used 
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The dappled paddock loping by." 

We had always supposed in our ignorance that 
" paddock " was a term applied to green fields or pas- 
tures. How Mr. Muirhead could have seen a paddock 
" lope " we do not know," and perhaps it would not be 
kind to ask him to explain. 

9 » m 
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tions, narrow affections, and overweening ambition, 
the pivot of his character is pride, a pride which enables 
him to sustain the self-control almost inhuman in its 
inflexibility. His wife, Claire, has never cared for him ; 
his coldness repels her so that she shuts away the 
emotional side of her natiu-e, and at the best an armed 
truce exists between them. She falls in love with Com- 
mander Dupre, of the submarine " Neptune," who re- 
sponds with ardour. They realise that danger exists 
in their continued friendship, and decide to separate 
for ever. On the last day of his stay at the town, she 
consents to go for a trip in the submarine that he 
commands. It is against the regulations of the service, 
and secrecy has to be observed. She tells her husband 
that she is spending the day with her sister Madeline. 
The adventure culminates in a tragedy, the submarine 
goes down, every hand on board is killed. Jacques 
learns the truth from Madeline, and having lost all 
hope, snatches at the one thing left to him — his pride^ 
He insists that Madeline shall go to Italy. 

" You must carry out your plan, my poor Madeline. 
You must go away to-night. . . . You must do this. . . 
for Claire's sake, and for the sake of Claire's children. 
You have but sufficient self-control to endure suspense 
calmly, secretly, . . . and perhaps " — he waited a 
moment — "the truth will never be known, or only 
known to a very few people — people who, as you sayj 
will understand." 

He gives it out publicly that Claire has accompanied 
her. And then, having arranged to cover up any 
possible scandal on his wife's name, hurries off to 
the Admiral in command of the Fleet, and insists that 
the bodies of the victims shall be recovered from the 
vessel secretly and by night. The Admiral consents. 
Claire's honour is saved, the children freed for ever 
from the slightest whisper against their mother's fame. 
Poor Claire is buried in the coffin with Dupre. It is 
given out publicly that she died of scarlet fever in Italy, 
attended by her devoted sister Madeline, and the 
Mayor of Falaise returns to the narrow course of his 
official way ! The author has the power of making the 
reader visualise the scenes that she depicts. The tense- 
ness of her dramatic situations makes one catch the 
breath, and wait for the solution of the matter with 
quickened pulse and a real sense and excitement and 
perturbation. The book is one of the most vivid and 
dramatic that has been published for a long time. 

9 » » 
"I am a watcher of life." With this remarkable 
announcement the latest book of Mr. Harry Tighe is 
opened. A WATCHER OF LIFE (Ouseley, 6s,) is a 
pretentious and at the same time a very silly book, 
written in the form that was popular some twenty years 
ago, based upon a far-fetched and frankly ridiculous 
plot and crowded with irrelevant incidents and impos- 
sible people. The bold bad baronet, Sir Patrick, falls 
hopelessly in love with one Rita Haulterman. This 
lady is apparently unable to use plain English, so she 
scatters French phrases up and down the book at all 
and every opportunity. The wife of Sir Patrick suffers 
from a morbid imagination and a diseased body. 
These deficiencies are counterbalanced by an ample 
fortune, which provides the bold bad baronet with the 
means to escape from her society and to enjoy the 
beauties of Europe. For some reason, totally inex- 
plicable to the reader, Rosamund pretends to be dead ; 
her husband accepts the intimation with placid in- 
difference, and without unduly concerning himself with 
the formalities of death certificates or anything else. 
He does not question the statement of her death, but 
forthwith marries Rita, and the unfortunate Rosamund 
wakes from a cataleptic trance to find her position i? 





usurped. Far from resenting the stranger's intrusion, 
she apologises humbly, even abjectly, for her continued 
existence, and, realising that she somewhat embarrasses 
her rival, considerately commits suicide, being in the 
second instance really dead. The style is slipshod, the 
sentiments mawkish. Mr. Tighe has not fulfilled the 
promise of better things suggested by " The Model in 
Green." » » » 

The Burning Question (Putnams, 6s.) discusses 
the rival claims of a woman's duty as wife and mother 
with the gratification of her artistic instinct. Miss 
Grace Litchfield feels compelled to thrust her heroine 
from a comfortable home with a dear httle child and 
a loving and indulgent husband into the stress of com- 
petition with poorer and less favourably circumstanced 
violinists. Sh& runs away, determined to make a name 
as a fiddler. Her husband not unnaturally pursues her, 
and to escape him she assumes the identity of a woman 
who is drowned, leaving her unfortunate husband to 
suppose that she has committed suicide. After two or 
three years he marries a healthy, normal girl, who is 
the one believable character in the book. An hour 
after his marriage, Olive, the wife, reappears, and in- 
timates that she has come to stay. The world has 
declined to listen to her fiddling, and she has come 
back full of concern for her own health, and deter- 
mined to make things generally speaking unpleasant. 
In real life, if it is possible to conceive of this night- 
mare being translated into fact, the husband must 
inevitably have insisted on her immediate departure, 
realising that though he had to part from the woman 
he had just married, there was no reason why he should 
live with his wife. Miss Litchfield proceeds on the 
lines of transpontine melodrama. Olive, the wife, re- 
mains in his house, which, we are quite sure, she mis- 
manages, and pretends to look after the child. And 
at the end of three years they are living on terms of 
the greatest affection and intimacy. 

Meanwhile Joyce marries a curate, who is dragged 
into the story at the last moment. 
9 9 9 

Mr. Herbert Malleson has written an entertaining 
volume of tales of gipsy life, NAPOLEON BoswELL 
(Smith, Elder and Co., 6s.) Boney, the young 
'Romany hero, is well drawn, and altogether a refresh- 
ing study. We are given an amusing insight into the 
somewhat precarious method by which he and his 
relations gain their livelihood, and the extraordinary 
cleverness with which they invariably manage to cir- 
cumvent the machinations of their arch enemy, the 
" man in blue," not to mention the gamekeeper. The 
character of Napoleon, the elder, is very well por- 
trayed, and in the first tale, " The Luck of the Whip," 
we are given an instance of the curiously superstitious 
thread wliich seems to run through the Romany race. 
We could wish that the author had been a little more 
painstaking in his rendering of the accent of the 
gipsies. It strikes us that the real Romany is rather 
less Cockney in his speech than Mr. Malleson leads 
us to believe, but apart from this the book reads con- 
vincingly, and brings before our eyes a vivid picture 
of the adventures of the road. The accounts of the 
horse fairs are very good reading, and Boney's frantic 
ride on a vicious, kicking horse to fetch his father 
from the fair is an exciting moment. We must confess 
we held our breath as we followed that young, lithe, 
brown figure tearing down the road in a cloud of 
dust, mounted on a huge brown beast, which hammered 
the road in a fury. Was it possible those little hands 
could hold him in? Would he be found a huddled, 
lifeless heap by the wayside, or would he prove the 
master. "The Raiment of Captivity" is well worth 




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reading, and the hero's love story is daintily told. 
Gertie is a charming study of a gipsy girl, 
and Ophelia, the ugly duckling, is well depicted. 
The reader who is a lover of his Borrow will probably 
find the book has many shortcomings, but if he is 
willing to overlook these, he will, we believe, 
thoroughly enjoy this volume of tales of the Brother- 
hood of the Road. 

» 9 • 

It is always irritating to find a book the scene of 
which is laid in the present day giving a chapter 
headed " Twenty-five Years After " devoted to the 
supposed results of the manner in which various politi- 
cal and religious subjects have been treated in the 
opening. When the last chapter treats of the fortunes 
of the hero and heroine alone in later life it is annoy- 
ing enough, but life is too short to worry over what 
has never happened and never will. Such a book is 
A Builder of Ships (Hodder and Stoughton, 6s.), 
by Charles M. Sheldon. The book treats of an Ameri- 
can shipbuilder and his son. They are building war- 
ships for their Government, and are " converted " in 
the middle of the undertaking. They feel that 
war is wrong, and that all implements of war should 
be destroyed. They have a contract to fulfil, however, 
and how they get out of the difficulty the reader must 
discover. The vivid part of the book is the account 
of a terrible fire in a block of tenement dwell- 
ings and a factory, the owner of which is Brandon 
Gushing, the shipbuilder. There are hundreds of 
deaths, and Brandon is held responsible, because he 
had supplied no fire escapes, although the legal notice 
had been served upon him. There is a really dramatic 
trial, in which Brandon comes out in a surprising hght. 
The earlier clmpters are decidedly better written than 
the latter, as the story somewhat fizzles out after the 
first few episodes. Hermosa, the heroine, is quite 
unreal ; in fact, Mr. Sheldon is not very successful 
in his characterisation of any of the women. Mr. 
Sheldon is careless in his grammar, and occasionally 
makes somewhat stringent calls on our imagination. 
For instance, such a sentence as " he went back to his 
desk and confronted himself" is startling, to say the 
least of it. Again, we are told about a negro porter 
who gives some harrowing evidence with an " ashea 

9 9 9 

Mr. Ridgwell CuUum has the faculty of grip- 
ping his readers with the sense of the weird in 
nature. His latest book, The Brooding Wild 
{Chapman and Hall, 2s. net), is the story of two 
trappers in the wilds of Canada, and the extraordinary 
influence which is exercised over them by the White 
Squaw. The account of their long journey in search 
of the legendary Queen of the Moosefoot Indians is 
told with a wonderful vividness. We feel the snap 
of the sparkling, frosty air, with the sun shining on 
the vast e.xpanse of snow. We can hear the whisper- 
ing of the runners as the sledge is swiftly drawn by 
the panting dogs, and a sense of the weird 
creeps over us as we read. We feel afraid to 
breathe or speak aloud — all is still with a silence 
which can be felt, but which may at any instant be 
broken by something terrible. We try to shake off 
the feeling, but even the dogs seem aware there is 
something— something which is full of danger, but 
which they cannot face. Undoubtedly the author 
knows how to impress his readers with the fear of the 
wild. The story ends tragically and quite unex- 
pectedly, and the mystery is well sustained right 
throughout. The characters of Nick and Ralph are 

well drawn, and the manner ifi which they are vic- 
timised by the half-breed, Victor, is carefully thought 
out. When we say that Mr. Cullum's descriptives make 
us long to throw down the book and set forth with 
a train of huskies into the limitless, snowbound 
" beyond," there is nothing more to add. 
» • • 

An Inn upon the Road, by Miss Janet Dodge 
(Sidgwick and Jackson, Ltd., 6s.), may be described 
as an episode in the life of a young girl, Natalie Her- 
bert, the daughter of a selfish, " persistently young," 
mother, Marianna, who spends all her energies in 
keeping her daughter out of all the enjoyments and 
sensible occupations, for which she longs. ?"he author 
explains that love is not always the ultimate aim of 
life, but is very often only an inn upon the road of 
adventure, at which the wayfarer stays for a while 
and then passes on, without obtaining the fruition of 
love. Natahe is a careful study of a girl who is always 
groping after the solution of herself. She is as puzzled 
over her own ambitions and temperament as ever her 
own mother could be, who never attempts to under- 
stand and sympathise with her, but engages her ener- 
gies simply in attracting to herself all the young men 
whom Natalie brings home. The description of the 
interview with her daughter, when she breaks the news 
of her third marriage, is cleverly handled. Marianna 
is a very understandable and yet repellent character. 
Conrad, Natalie's lover, is well drawn, though one 
could wish he was a little less phlegmatic. The book 
is a notable success, and should run into many editions. 
For ourselves, we can say with sincerity we are glad to 

have read it. 

» • • 

Punch has come to be regarded almost as a national 
institution. Representative of the type of humour that 
appeals to the Englishman, the matter of the price has 
alone prevented many readers from becoming regular 
subscribers. The proprietors, realising this, have de- 
cided to offer special terms to new subscribers, and 
have arranged to supply the paper at a greatly reduced 
figure. Sixty-five issues of Punch and the Punch 
Almanack can be obtained for the subscription of 
1 3S. 6d. The reduction in the cost is considerable, and 
the figure named is extraordinarily small. 


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MaV 3, IjIJ 




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EVERVMAN', FHIDAY, MaY 9, 1913. 



'V / // 


.-■ s , -i ■■>■%■. \ * I %■■• ■■■■ '■■■ ' ^.■' 




For Character seepage 105. 



Mur 3, igij 




Portrait of Mri. Sidney V/elth 

Hiitory in the Making— Notes of the Week '... 98 

The General Strike in Belgium— By Emile Vandervelde, 

MP 99 

The Lloyd George Cnuade. III. The Taxation of Land- 
By I'. W. Wilson 100 

The Road that Lead* to Nowhere— By Llewen Macartney 101 
Everyman's French Page. The Philosophy of Uncle 

Benjamin— By Claude Tillier 102 

Announcement of a New Series of Competitions 102 

Liselotte : A German Princess at the Court of Louis XIV. 

I'art I.— By the Editor 103 

Mrs. Sidney Webb -By C. M. Ll^yd 105 

The Real Napoleon. Part II.— By Charles Sarolea 106 

Considerations Touching our Future Stale— By Maurice 

Maeterlinck 107 

Masterpiece for the Week. "The Ordeal of Richard 

Feverel," by George Meredith ... lOS 

Sex and the Drama. A Reply-By D. E. Oliver 110 

In Memoriam : George Meredith. Poem— By Horace Sliipp 111 

The Spider. Short Story- By Andrfi Theuriet 112 

The Muse in Exile — By Gilbert Thomas H3 

Literary Notes — ~. 114 

Correspondence — 

Is the Human Brain Degenerating ? ... — »• 116 

Enterprise in Business ... ... ... ... ... 117 

Pacifism and Imperialism 119 

The Abolition of the Working Classes 121 

The Use of Books to Working Men ... 122 

The Dappled Paddock 122 

Phillimore on Cromwell 122 

Books of the Week 124 



ONCE again the imperturbable good temper of 
the police turned what might easily have been 
a repetition of that " bloody Sunday " of 1 887, 
which fructified the Social Democratic movement with 
the blood of its martyrs, into a rough-and-ready but 
relatively harmless scrimmage, ending in a general 
"trek" homewards. As usual, the cause of the dis- 
turbance was an irresponsible and unauthorised inciter 
of the mob ; and once more the curious impotence of 
the authorised leader over against the self-constituted 
demagogue was made apparent. It remains, however, 
that a large section of the British public is smarting 
under what looks like the beginning of a somewhat 
un-British policy of police suppression. The recent 
police raid upon the Suffragist headquarters and the 
confiscation or prohibition of publications will doubt- 
less be welcomed by many whom the militant policy 
has filled with apprehension ; but the thoughtful 
obsen^er, whatever be his attitude on the question of 
Women's Suffrage, will see the shadow of a grave 
menace in these suppressive and prohibitive measures. 
Free speech and a free Press has not only been the 
glory of Britain ; they have also been her surest safe- 
guards against rebellion and anarchy. Bereft of the 
escape valve of free utterance, the rel>ellious elements 
must ferment and breed the poison of that fierce and 
furtive revolt which makes the Continental rebel the 
enemy of society where, given the safety valve of 
expression, he would have been but a healthy irritant. 
Unless we completely misread the lessons of history, 
this suppressive policy will breed a crop of riots and 
rebellions such as we have been spared this long while 

China has naturally loomed big in the public eye 
during the past few weeks. Among the many in- 
teresting contributions made to our understanding of 
a complicated and pregnant situation, none has struck 

us as more clear-sighted than that made by Lord 
William Gascoyne-Cecil in the columns of the daily 
Press. He rightly points out that, while China's re- 
quest for the prayers of Christendom was more im- 
mediately actuated by patriotic ambitions, notably the 
desire for recognition as a nation, it is ultimately part 
and parcel of an as yet inarticulate but very real 
moral and spiritual aspiration, finding expression in. 
the anti-opium agitation and similar movements. He 
also reminds us that the present revolution is moulded, 
not upon English, but American ideals. Owing to a 
short-sighted missionary pohcy which did not include 
the higher education of the young Chinaman, it is the 
Americanised Chinaman who counts in China to-day. 
And the China of to-day, be it remembered, is on the 
verge of one of those great storms which are so apt 
to follow on the heels of what promised to be an 
age of gold. On the very Sunday set apart for these 
Christian prayers, Constitutionalism was made a mere 
farce by the signing of the sextuple — or rather, as it 
is now, the quintuple — loan agreement. And again 
it has been the United States who, in refusing to have 
anything to do with this agreement, have opened a 
door of mutual friendship and advantage to the yeast- 
ing young Repubhc — " tie only door," says President 
Wilson characteristically, " by which we care to 
enter." Britain has lost a great opportunity of mould- 
ing the young mind of a people on whom very much 
of the future depends. She will be wise in using the 
present attitude of wistful aspiraJnons which charac- 
terises thousands of thoughtful young Chinamen tO' 
retrieve what she has missed. 

The French League of the Young Republic has 
discovered the convincing value of tlie sweating 
exhibition, and at the present moment the Sweaters' 
Museum is the latest thing in Paris. There the gay 
and well-to-do buyers of sweated goods can see what 
their purchases spell in terms of himian tears and 
blood. The exhibition is run very much on the lines 
of the English one for which the Principed of Aber- 
deen University was so largely responsible. A 
dramatic touch is supplied by a little curtained recess 
at the far end of the room, into which you are bidden 
to enter. It contains a mirror bearing the legend, 
"Who is to blame?" 

There has died at a New York nursing home for 
poor negroes, at the age of close upon a hundred, 
Harriet Tubman Davies, the Moses of the Negroes — 
one of the most picturesque figures in the Civil War. 
A child of thirteen, she called a brutal slave overseer 
to account (hence her title of the Moses of the Negro), 
and was promptly knocked down by him, and that so 
violently as to inflict a cerebral injury, from the effects 
of which she. did not fully recover for many years. 
Her extraordinary cunning and enormous physical 
strength made her the central figure in many thrilling 
exploits, which make good reading. Many great 
men of the period, including Emerson, John Brown, 
Horace Mann, Garrison, and others, held her in high 
and friendly esteem. 

The latest development of the cinematographic art 
is Kinoplastikon, now on view at the Scala Theatre, 
London. It is a process by which hving stereoscopic 
pictures are shown without a screen. The illusion of 
watching living actors performing as on a real stage 
needs only the aid of a perfected system of gramo- 
phones to make it complete. Even at the present 
stage Kinoplastikon is yet in its earliest infancy. The 
fact that the actors make their entrances and exits by 
the wings adds a startling touch of actuahty to this 
screenless kincma. 

Hay 9, >)., 




By EMILE VANDERVELDE, M.P. (Leader of the Belgian Socialist Party.) 

The Belgian General Strike is over. It has been 
what the proletariat wished it to be, formidable and 
pacific. From the first day 300,000 men had stopped 
work. They very soon became 400,000, and for 
nearly two weeks this enormous mass remained im- 
mobile, impassive, without any violence being com- 
mitted, without " order " being disturbed for one single 

As for the results which have been achieved, in 
order -to appreciate their value we must go back to 
the beginning of the crisis and recall its main 

According to the Belgian Constitution, all men of 
twenty-five years of age are electors, but— as in 
Saxony — the rich, or rather the well-to-do, have two 
or three votes, whereas the poor have only one vote. 
It is in order to secure the abolition of the plural \T>te 
that for twenty years Socialists have used every 
means of propaganda and persuasion. At the last 
General Election (June, 1912) they hoped to have 
done with the Clerical majorit}', and to realise elec- 
toral reform through the understanding of the Oppo- 
sition parties. That hope was not realised, owing 
to the treason, from class instinct, of a certain number 
of three-vote electors, v;ho had been in the habit of 
voting for the Liberals. 

From the month of July, and during the nine 
months which followed, the whole effort of the Labour 
party was devoted to strike preparations. A fund for 
purposes of propaganda was established by the co- 
operatives, the workers' syndicates, and the various 
political groups ; manifestos and propagandist tracts 
were issued fortnightly and scattered broadcast all 
over the country, and the big syndicates decided to 
devote a considerable part of their funds to the 
maintenance of the strike. The bourgeois supporters 
of Universal Suffrage were asked to undertake to aid 
the strikers financially, or to receive their children 
into their homes. Above all, the working classes 
were called upon to limit their expenditure, and the 
result of their self-denial was organised into a reserve 
fund, with a view to accumulating sufficient to 
keep 300,000 to 400,000 strikers afloat for several 

This self-denial, particularly in the two great in- 
dustrial provinces of Liege and Hainault, assumed 
such proportions as speedily to have a most depress- 
ing influence upon the retail trade. The preparation 
for the strike alone caused the takings of the small 
traders to fall by thirty, forty, and even fifty per cent. 
in many cases. Commercial travellers gave vent to 
bitter complainings, and the Excise Department 
registered an appreciable loss in the income from beer 
duties. On the other hand, when, on February 12th, 
1913, after the -Housq had refused to consider our 
motion to revise the Constitution, the strike was fixed 
for April 14th, the mere fact of this decision produced 
a profound disturbance in the course of industrial 
business. Many heads of commercial houses were 
afraid of accepting orders which they were not sure 
of being able to e^cute, or saw competitors Of other 
countries being preferred to them. In the port of 
Antwerp, especially, there was a general complaint 
that many ships, alarmed by the prospect of a strike, 
had turned their course away towards Hamburg or 

Briefly, the crisis, called fortli at a given moment, 
became so acute that the most urgent efforts were 
made on the bourgeois side to arrive at a com- 

It was well known that for some time already the 
majority of the members of the Government had 
grudgingly pledged themselves, thanks to the in- 
fluence of the King, to effect a revision of the elec- 
toral system somewhere in the near future ; that the 
delay merely meant that they were trying to gain time 
until they had doubled the cape of the elections of 
1914, and that nothing would have pleased them better 
meanwhile than to consider this problem of electoral 
reform, if they had not been afraid lest in so doing 
they should alienate the reactionary elements of the 
extreme Right. 

With a view to inducing them to say in public what 
they were saying already in the lobby, Liberal 
Deputies and merchants' and manufacturers' associa- 
tions intervened, but without success. The mayors 
of the nine county towns interposed in their turn be- 
tween the Chief of the Government and the leaders 
of the Labour party, asking of the latter to abandon 
the strike and of the former to address themselves 
to the problem of Constitutional revision, and for 
one moment it seemed that their efforts would be 
crowned with success, for on Februarj' 29th, M. de 
Broqueville, the head of the C9.binet, authorised the 
mayors to communicate to the Labour party " the 
impression that if the declaration of the strike be 
rescinded the Government would not refuse to make 
a step in the direction of conciliation and appease- 

When they heard these declarations, the Socialist 
leaders were convinced that the action of the 
Government in authorising the mayors to bring them a 
message such as this meant that, bent on saving its 
face, it had resolved to satisfy their demands. It is 
certain, moreover, that this was also the conviction of 
the mayors and, in all probability, the intention of 
M. de Broqueville. 

But the mayors, and perhaps the head of the 
Cabinet also, had reckoned without the extreme 
elements of the Clerical-Conservative party. Hardly 
had the thirty or forty Deputies hostile to all electoral 
reform who sat on the Government benches got wind 
of what had passed, than a storm of protest arose 
against those Ministers who were suspected of having 
wanted to make terms with the Socialists. They were 
urged to let the matter drop, and, in order to preserve 
the unity of his party, the Chief of the Cabinet was 
constrained to sacrifice his conciliatory intention to the 
ill-will of his political associates. 

When, on March 13th, the Liberal leader, M. 
Hymans, asked the Government what it was going to 
do, M. de Broqueville replied with a few vague 
phrases, implying the possibility of a revision of the 
Constitution after the elections of 19 14, and the 
prospect of the appointment of a Commission con- 
cerning itself exclusively with the problem of munici- 
pal and county elections. 

The mayors obviously had been cheated. The 
Chief of the Cabinet had not broken his promises, 
because he had made no formal promises. But he 
had left room for hope. He had given them the 
right to liofK;. And what is more, he had 



Miiv g, ziii 

been warned by the mayor of Brussels, M. Max, that 
it would be a vain and even a perilous thing to 
attempt to limit the consideration of the question to 
tlie local electorate. " In the course of a discussion 
with M. Emile Vandervelde," M. Max wrote to M. de 
Broqueville as late as March 8th, " I consulted him 
about this proposal. He replied without any hesitation 
that he considered such a course would be disastrous ; 
that it would prove a bitter disillusionment to 
the Labour party and be the signal of a fresh 

In saying this, I have proved only too reliable a 
prophet. The declaration of the Government 
aroused a wave of indignation in Labour circles. In 
vain the majority of Labour leaders tried to preach 
patience. They bid their followers observe how, in 
spite of the burking of plain issues on the part of the 
Government, the cause of electoral revision had made 
immense progress during the past nine months, that 
public opinion was already conquered, that electoral 
reform was now only a question of time, and that, 
under these conditions, it was no longer necessary to 
have recourse to that counsel of despair, a general 
strike. Nothing, however, came of their persuasions. 
By an overwhelming majority, the Congress of 
March 23rd fixed the beginning of the strike for 
'April 14th, and on the day appointed the great cessa- 
tion from work began, with admirable concord and 
with an impressive calmness of temper. 

Two days after^vards the Houses of Parliament, 
which had given themselves a month's holiday, re- 
sumed their deliberations. Under the influence of 
the strike, the order of the day was suspended. A 
debate ensued, in the course of which the Chief of 
the Cabinet, heckled by Socialist Deputies, protested 
his unaltered sentiments of conciliation, renewed his 
promise to appoint a Commission to deal with the 
problem of the local electorate, and added, to the 
general surprise, that if this Commission, in which all 
parties would be represented, would come to complete 
agreement uf)on a definite proposal, such a proposal 
could, in the course of events, be extended to the 
legislative electorate also. 

We lost no time in emphasising the significance of 
this sensational pronouncement, and, on the morrow, 
a Liberal Deputy, M. Masson, moved that the House 
should take note of this declaration of the Govern- 
ment, pointing out that, after all, it implied the con- 
sideration of the whole of the problem of electoral 
reform. Three days after, on April 22nd, the House 
voted imanimously for M. Masson's motion, as slightly 
amended by the Right Wing, and the Strike Com- 
mittee proposed a return to work. 

Without wishing to exaggerate the importance of 
tliis Parliamentary result, it is certain that the 
cause of Revision is now well in train. The only 
remaining question is whether it will take place 
immediately before or immediately after the elec- 
tions of 1914. 

What is, however, of infinitely greater importance, 
in my view, is that the struggle in which we have 
been engaged has demonstrated that a general strike 
for the end of obtaining a definite reform can be abso- 
lutely peaceful and orderly, and attain satisfactory 
results, without in any way going beyond the limits of 
the law, when it is carefully prepared cind when it is 
carried on by a disciplined proletariat which knows 
what it wants and wants it with determination. 

From this point of view, we hope that the experi- 
ence which we have just passed through in Belgium 
will not be lost on the other sections of the Inter- 
national Labour and Socialist party. 


III. — The Tax.'vtion of L.\nd 

In this third article I am to define the part played 
by taxation of land in the social programme of the 
Chancellor of the Exchequer. This year's Revenue 
Bill is a signal for tlie renewal of this controversyj 
dealing as it will with the valuation of farms. So- 
called single-taxers, hke Mr. Wedgwood and Mr. 
Outhwaite, have from the first complained that the 
Btidget made a mistake in including the cost of 
hedges, ditches, and other unexhausted improvements 
in the site value of agricultural land, and the Revenue 
Bill is to furnish, where necessary, a new valuation, 
from which such items will be eliminated. The critics 
tell us that, if you subtract from the value of a farm 
the present worth of buildings, fences, and drainage, 
you may arrive at a minus quantity ; but this prospect 
does not daunt the land-taxers, who argue that, in a 
well-ordered country, there will always be a reserve 
of unfavourable land, of no capital value which will 
furnish an automatic outlet for marginal labour. 
Whatever weight we attach to this contentionj the 
fact remains that Mr. Lloyd George proposes this year 
to create a standard of net site valuation which at a 
future date will enable him or any other Chancellor 
of the Exchequer to levy a national tax at a uniform 
figure for town and country. The land-taxers claim 
that id. in the £ would yield about 20 millions — a 
figure admittedly speculative — and they dream of so. 
achieving a free breakfast table, an enriched system 
of education, and national main roads. But what they 
really want is not revenue as such, so much as a 
liberated market in land — the breaking up of large 
estates — and the better use of land for small holdings, 
garden suburbs, and allotments. The Budget, with 
its tentative duty on undeveloped land near towns, 
has already brought a good deal of land under the 
hammer. The beauty of the land tax is that it cuts 
at a stroke through the Gordian knot of legal agree- 
ments which fix the whole burden of rating on the 
unfortunate occupier ; but I submit none the less that 
Mr. Lloyd George to-day contemplates a somewha* 
different approach to the problem which we are con 
sidering. The immediate task is rating reform rathei 
than a land tax. 

Policy has to be considered in electoral terms, and, 
humanly speaking. Liberalism, deprived under Home 
Rule of the Irish, depends on holding the towns and 
gaining in the counties. Takej then, the case of a 
man who farms a hundred acres of, say, £$0 an acre 
capital value, or ;£^30 net. A penny in the £ on that 
farm means ;£^I2 10s. a year. You may tell the man 
that his landlord will pay, and that the money, so 
collected Imperially, will be distributed subsequently 
in rehef of rates. But the case is not an easy one 
to drive home against the prejudices and the sus- 
picions of the countryside, especially in those rural 
constituencies where land is held by the small man 
on freehold. Rating, however, is a different matter. 
Everybody agrees that reform is here long overdue. 
And, as I shall speedily show, the reform naturally 
presents itself not as a new tax, but as a relief from 
old ones. 

The first fundamental fact is that, having secured 
.a national valuation, we can now sweep away local 
assessments. Much the most serious abuse in local 
government, especially in rural areas, has been the 
fact that property has been assessed by the guardians, 
a body supposed to be elected for an entirely different 

UaT a, 19!) 



purpose, and composed oftentimes of men whose 
status is such that they cannot hold the balance even 
as between the lord in hi|. castle and the grocer in 
his little village shop. " Valuation by a central 
authority like the Treasury will have the immediate 
effect of raising the assessments of large country 
houses and the adjoining amenities. One more func- 
tion will fall frtKn the Guardians, who will thus be 
one step nearer an unrcgretted extinction. 

Some people imagine that Budget valuation means 
site valuation only. This is an error, and my above 
point amounts only to this— that Budget Valuation 
means umform- valuation, as between area and area, 
and as between rich and poor. As a matter of fact, 
there is not one Budget valuation, but several. The 
Budget gives you not only site value, but total value — 
using the term quite popularly — which would include 
buildings. Thus, under the Budget assessments, a 
local authority could, if it wished, continue to levy 
rates as at present on hcwses as well as sites— on 
machinery in factories — on signal-boxes on railways. 
And Mr. Lloyd George has clearly indicated that his 

Elan will be one of locd option. ' He will not say to 
.iverpool or Glasgow or Middlesex, You shall re- 
lieve improvements of rates. He will only say. You 
may if you like. The effect of this will be a new and 
vital issue in local politics— something tangible, which 
the ratepayers will have to decide for themselves. It 
is not quite so simple as some land-taxers imagine. 
To say that no rates are to be paid on the fabric of 
Chats worth or Arundel Castle is not to assist the 
poor! Again, to charge rates only on the prairie 
assessment of railways would be to put some milhons 
a year into' the pockets of the companies. It may 
be right to do this, but the immediate effect would 
be to raise the capital value of railways by, say, 60 
millions — I do not pretend to have worked out the 
exact figure— which, on nationahsation, would have to 
be added to the purchase price paid by the State. 

Such rating reform as I have outhned would be 
accompanied by a general simplification, which would 
include Exchequer grants, now amounting to about 
10 millions. It is here, of course, that we touch the 
economic aspect of Lord Haldane's Education Cam- 
paign. That must be a partnership between the 
Treasury and local authorities. Education is sup- 
posed to stand a little apart from the Lloyd George 
Crusade. Some regard it as a rival, but, if the 
patience of EvEPA'MAN is not exhausted, I will in a 
concluding article describe the bearing of one scheme, 
so far as it is defined, on the other. It is a subject not 
free from serious difficulty. 



" — Tliose things and I ; in sound I speak — 
Their sound is but their stir, they speak by silences." , 

— Francis Tuompson. 

Some way behind Childerton village — beyond where 
the last group of cottages straggle apart from the 
others on the Winchester road — unmolested and 
unfrequented, there it lies, the Road that Leads to 

The hard-headed, practical Hampshire villagers 
never come dov.n it, for their business takes them in 
other directions, and they have no time for dreaming. 
Village yokels and farmers' boys stray across it some- 
times in their search for plovers' eggs. I encountered 

one of them once. He had discovered a nest with 
three eggs close by a tuft of furze, and was regarding 
it with unseeing eyes. " 'Ta'an't nobbut a haap of 
stoans and muck," he said dispassionately, and went 
his way, his hands full of eggs. 

Generally the Road that Leads to Nowhere is left 
to idlers such as you and me to wander down at our 
own sweet will, and yet at times one meets strange 
folk there. / 

Strangers who come from the jar and whirr of 
great London find it attractive by reason of its inde- 
finitencss, for it wanders gently up from the main 
road, across the chalky, furze-dotted common land, 
and spreads itself only to lose itself over the rolling 
downs, behind which you may see the sun rise every 
morning, for the Road runs eastward, and is for that 
reason most lovely in the light of the early morning, 
and only less lovely in the evening, when the long 
shadows lie upon it. 

Are we right in calling it the Road that Leads to 
Nowhere ? I wonder. For in the morning the Road ■ 
runs on till it seems to join the pathway made by the 
sun's first rays, which lead to the very heart of the sun 
himself. In the evening the sun has gone and the 
path has faded, and then it is that the silence of the 
Road begins to speak to those who care to listen. The 
silence has a message for many people, but some are 
too deaf to hear, and some are too tired. Not long 
since a worker from the great city to whom the Road 
had made a strong appeal answered that appeal, and 
came to stay in the village for rest and change. He 
hurried from the cottage where he was staying 
towards the Road, in order to spend the sunset hour 
there, but long before the daylight had faded he was 
back at the cottage again. " I have waited for this 
evening walk for the last six months," he said, "and 
now the time has come I cannot bear it. The silence 
is too great ! " 

The next morning he went at sunrise, and all was 
different, for the great silence of the Road is broken 
then by the call of the birds. Larks spring by hun- 
dreds from the ground and fill the air with their songs ; 
finches and yellow-hammers chirrup to each other 
from broken patches of hawthorn bush ; and those to 
whom the plover's cry is not melancholy can watch 
him as he wheels and circles overhead, showing now 
the bright and now the darjj* side of his plumage. 
Indeed, there is life enough onThe Road for those who 
care to look for it. And the silence of the evening 
hour as well ? What of it ? Just this, that since dif- 
ferent localities tend to produce different trains of 
thought, so the silence of the Road has a special 
message for those who are prepared to hear it. 

Listen! It is the evening hour, and you have 
drifted down the Road that Lea.ds to Nowhere. Hark ! 
The church clock has ceased striking, the village is at 
rest, the great silence is falling round you. Hush! 
Do nothing to disturb it. Let your eyes wander down 
the dim, familiar track, and your thoughts, it may be, 
will wander down another track, misty, undefined, 
and fascinating ; you know it — the Road that Leads 
to Nowhere in the mind. Follow it out undisturbed ; 
let the vague, delicious sensations of the brain float 
around you unchecked — the silence is speaking to 

Could we but fathom the depths of the silence that 
falls upon us outwardly and inwardly we should find 
maybe our dim consciousness would turn to sure 
reality, the Nowhere would change into the Every- 
where, and as the pathway of Gold would lead us to 
the Sun, so the Great Everywhere would bring us to 



Mat 9, ijtj 


By Claude Tillier 

La Philosophie de mon Oncle Benjamin 
J'AI quarante ans ; j'ai d^ja passe par quatre pro- 
fessions ; j'cii 6te maitxe d'etudes, soldat, maitre 
d'ecole, et me voila joumalisle. J'ai ete stir la terre 
€t sur I'ocean, sous la tente et au coin, de I'atre, entre 
les barrcaux d'une prison et au milieu des espaces 
libres de ce monde ; j'ai obei et j'ai commande ; j'ai 
eu des moments d'opulence et des annees de misere. 
On m'a aime et on m'a hai ; on m'a applaudi et on 
m'a tourne en derision. J'ai ete fils et pere, amant et 
epoux ; j'ai passe par la saison des fleurs et par celle 
des fruits, comme disent les poctes. Je n'ai trouve 
dans aucim de ces etats que j'eusse beaucoup k me 
feliciter d'etre enferme dans la peau d'un homme, 
plutot que dans celle d'un loup ou d'un renard, 
plutot que dans la coquille d'une huitre, dans I'ecorce 
d'un arbre, ou dans la pellicule d'une pomme de terre. 
Peut-etre si j'etais rentier, rentier a cinquante mille 
francs surtout, je penserais differemment. 

En attendant, mon opinion est que Thomme est une 
machine qui a ete faite expres pour la douleur ; il n'a 
que cinq sens pour percevoir le plaisir, et la souffrance 
lui arrive par toute la surface de son corps ; en quel- 
que endroit qu'on le pique, il saigne ; en quelque 
endroit qu'on le brule, il vient une vesicule. Les 
poumons, le foie, les entrailles ne peuvent lui donner 
aucune jouissance ; cependant le poumon s'enflamme 
et le fait tousser ; le foie s'obstrue et lui donne la 
fievre ; les entrailles se tordent et font la colique. 
Vous n'avez pas un nerf, un muscle, un tendon sous 
la peau qui ne puisse vous faire crier de douleur. 

Votre organisation se detraque a chaque instant 
comme tme mauvaise pendule. Vous allez au bal, une 
entorse vous saisit au pied, et il faut vous rapporter 
chez vous, sur un matelas ; aujourd'hui, vous etes un 
grand ecrivain, un grand philosophe, un grand poete ; 
un fil de votre cerveau se casse, on aura beau vous 
saigner, vous mettre de la glace sur la tete, demain 
vous ne serez qu'un pauvre fou. 

La douleur se tient derriere tous yos plaisirs ; vous 
etes ^ I'ombre de votre jardin, et vous vous ecriez, 
" Oh, la belle rose ! " et la^ose vous pique ; " Oh, le beau 
fruit ! " il y a une gugpe dSdans, et le fruit vous mord. 

Vous dites, " Dieu nous a fait pour le servir et 
I'aimer." Cela n'est pas \Tai ; il vous a fait pour 
souffrir. L'homme qui ne souffre pas est une machine 
mal faite, une creature manquee, un estropie moral, 
un avorton de la nature. 

La mort n'est pas seulement la fin de la vie, elle 
en est le remede. 

On n'est nulle part aussi bien que dans un cercueil. 
Si vous m'en croyez, au lieu d'un paletot neuf, .allez- 
vous commander un cercueil. C'est le seul habit qui 
ne gene pas. 

The Philosophy of Uncle Benjamin 

" I AM forty years of age, and liave already passed 
through four professions ; I have been tutor in a col- 
lege, a soldier, a schoolmaster, and now I am a journalist 
I have been on land and sea, I have lived under, 
a tent, by the fireside corner, behind the bars of al 
prison, and in the free, open spaces of the world ; T 
have obeyed and I have commanded ; I have had 
moments of opulence and years of misery. Some have 
loved me, and some have hated me ; they have 
applauded me, and also held me up to derision. I 
have been a son and a father, a lover and a husband ; 
and, as the poets say, I have passed through the! 
season of flowers and through the season of fruit. 
Under none of these conditions have I been able to 
congratulate myself that I have been enclosed in the 
skin of a man rather than in that of a wolf, or a fox, 
or in the shell of an oyster, in the bark of a tree or in 
the pellicle of a potato. Perhaps if I had been a' 
landed proprietor, especially a proprietor with an in- 
come of ;^2,ooo, I might think differently. 

■' As things are, my opinion is that man is a machine, 
made expressly to suffer pain ; he has only been given 
five senses to perceive pleasure, but he can feel pain 
over the whole surface of his body. Prick him, and 
he bleeds ; burn his skin, and a blister appears. His ^ 
lungs, liver and intestines give him no pleasure ; oii \ 
the contrary, his lungs get inflamed, and cause him 
to cough ; his liver becomes obstructed, and gives him 
fever ; a twist of the intestines, and colic supervenes. 
You have not a nerve, a muscle, or a tendon that 
cannot make you cry out with pain. 

"Your organism gets out of order every moment, 
like a badly made clock. You go to a dance, and you 
twist your ankle, and have to go home to bed ; you 
may be a celebrated writer or poet or philosopher, 
but, if an artery bursts in your brain, they may bleed 
you and put ice on your head, but to-morrow you will 
be nothing but a poor fool. Pain stands behind all 
your pleasures. 

" You are perhaps in the shade of your garden, and 
you say, ' Oh, what a lovely rose ! ' — and the rose' 
pricks you. ' Oh, what beautiful fruit ! ' — there is st 
wasp in it, and the fruit bites you. 

" Some may say that God has made us in order to' 
serve Him and love Him. That is not true. You 
have been made in order to suffer ; and the man who": 
does not suffer is a badly made machine, a failure, ai 
moral disfiguration, an abortion of nature. 

" Death is not only the end of hfe, but its remedy- 
Nowhere can one be so comfortable as in one's cofliri. 
Believe me when I say that, instead of getting a 
new coat, order a coffin. It will be much more com^ 


It is one of the objects of Kvkryman, expressed in the sub-title 
of the paper, to get at the facts of national life. We speak glibly 
of the classes and the masses, lumping them together as if they 
were abstract entities ; but we know very little of the concrete 
conditions of life of those classes and those masses. One of the 
most urgent desiderata of social science is an accurate knowledge 
of those conditions, with their infinite variations in time and 
space, atcording to professions and surroundings. 

With a view to furthering such knowledge, we offer a prize 
of Three Guineas each for the best contribution, not exceeding 
a,ooo words, on any one of the six following subjects: — 

1. The Civil Servant. 2. The Anglican Clergyman, 

3. The Forel(<n Missionary. 4, The Male Teacher. 
5, The Compositor. 6. The Miner, 

The papers should be descriptive rather than controversial, and 
we would recommend a division into paragraphs, with a view 
to inducing orderly sequence. We would also recommend a brief ■ 
synopsis summing up the main points dealt with. It is desirable 
that the competitions be written from direct observation. The 
experience of a miner will be more welcome than a contributioa 
by a politician who once in his life vi.?ited a coal-mine. 

Entries should be clearly written, and preferably typewritten', 
should bear the number of the Competition, and should reach 

Competition Editos, "Evervma.n," 

ai. Royal Terrace, 
1 Edinburgh, 

1 by July 1st. Other subjects ■will be announced later on. 

Mat 9, 1913 



LISELOTTE: a German Princess at the Court of Louis XIV. 

By the Editor. parti. 


AnofT the end of the seventeenth century there lived at 
the Courts of Versailles and St. Cloud a German Prin- 
cess, the second wife of the only brother of Louis XIV., 
who had made herself the butt of universal ridicule. 
Strikingly ugly, tactless in manner, coarse in speech, 
cynical and sarcastic, she was despised and derided by 
the courtiers, she was ill-used by her husband, she was 
out of favour with Louis, she was hated by the King's 
morganatic wife, Mme. de Maintenon, the uncrowned 
Queen of France. In the busy throng which filled the 
galleries of the huge palace, she lived, in the recess of 
her private apartments, an existence of almost com- 
plete solitude, and eventually she was reduced to the 
company of her dogs, which she preferred to the society 
of a Court which she abhorred. Her chief occupation 
in life for thirty years was to write interminable letters 
to her relatives and friends in Germany, and in those 
letters she would not, like her contemporary, Mme. de 
Sevignd, pour out the fulness of an affectionate heart; 
she only sought an outlet for the malignant passions 
that oppressed her. Little did the courtiers suspect 
that the ungainly, massive, unpopular Princess was to 
be the ancestress of half the Imperial and Royal houses 
of Europe, and that she v\-ould appear to posterity as 
one of the most remarkable women of her age. Still 
less did they suspect that their own reputations would 
be at the mercy of a woman whom they reviled, and that 
she was drawing the features of their moral characters 
in indelible lines for all times to come. 


The voluminous correspondence of Elizabeth Char- 
lotte, Duchess of Orleans, better known to French his- 
torians as "Madame," and known to German historians 
under the endearing nickname of "Liselotte," form with 
the " Memoires " of Saint Simon the most important 
historical document for the last thirty years of the reign 
of Louis XIV. From a purely literary point of view, the 
Memoirs of Saint Simon are, no doubt, vastly superior, 
and it would be absurd to compare the finished, incisive 
pen-portraits of the greatest memoir writer of all ages 
with the slovenly, formless outpourings of Liselotte. 
But from a purely historical point of view, the Corre- 
spondence of "Madame" has even greater value than 
the " Memoires," for these only received their final form- 
fifty years after the events they narrated, and the his- 
torian writes mainly from hearsay, and indirect report. 
On the contrary, the letters of Liselotte were written 
day after day under the direct impression of the events 
she described. She possessed, moreover, unique 
opportunities of knowing the chief personages of the 
times, and she was a far better observer, as well as a 
more intelligent one, than the narrow-minded Duke. 
And, finally, being a German of the Germans, and thus 
observing the Court of Versailles, as it were, from the 
outside, her judgment was more detached, as well as 
more penetrating. 

Whilst there exist considerable differences and dis- 
agreements between the " Memoires " and the " Corre- 
spondence," at the same time there also exists a strik- 
ing parallelism bettveen them. Both writings owe their 
origin to the same circumstances, namely, to the fact 
that Saint Simon and Liselotte were both seeking, in 
their productions, an occupation for their enforced leisure 
and an outlet for their passions, their grievances and 
disappointments. Both had to hide their writings from 
their contemporaries. Both writers are bent on depict- 
ing the darker side of Court life. Both look on the 
chief characters and events of their generation from the 
same angle. 

(And both the " Memoires " and the " Correspon- 
dence " have been buried for several generations in the 
secret archives of France and Germany. It is only in 
our own day that M. de Boislisle has been able to give us 
a complete edition of Saint Simon. As for the three or 
four hundred letters which make up the "Correspon- 
dence" of "Madame," they are still partly unpub- 
lished. No doubt, publication after publication have 
appeared at different times. The Literary Society of 
Stuttgart has published no less than seven volumes. 
The great historian Ranke has edited a whole volume 
as an appendix to his French History. But a consider- 
able fraction of the letters are still hidden in various 
German private and public libraries, and we are still 
waiting for the enterprising editor who will give us the 
complete and standard edition. The extraordinary 
success which has recently attended the publication by 
the " Langewiesche Buchhandlung " of a most interest- 
ing selection from the "Correspondence " — no less than 
twenty-five thousand copies have been sold — testifies to 
the growing public interest in one of the most remark- 
able characters and one of the most valuable historical 
documents of modern times.) 


The young German girl, who arrived in 1672 at the 
Court of Versailles, at nineteen years of age, as the bride 
of " Monsieur " Duke of Orleans, and only brother of 
Louis XIV., belonged to one of the poorest but one of 
the most illustrious dynasties of the Empire. Her 
father, Charles Louis, Elector Palatine, had recovered 
his principality on the Peace of Westphalia in 1648. 
Her grandfather, the head of the Protestant Union 
during the Thirty Years' War, and the ephemeral and 
ill-fated King of Bohemia, was a descendant of William 
of Orange, and the husband of Elizabeth Stuart, 
daughter of King James I. of England. It is not 
generally known that, through this marriage, Mary 
Stuart has become the ancestress in direct line of prac- 
tically every European dynasty, — of the German and 
Austrian Emperors, of the Kings of England, of France, 
Spain, Belgium, and Bulgaria. An uncle of Liselotte, 
Prince Rupert, had distinguished himself in the English 
service. Another uncle married the notorious Anna of 
Gonzague, the "Princess Palatine." Her Aunt Sophia 
was the mother of King George I. of England. 

The rich valleys and vine-clad hills of the Rhine Pala- 
tinate had been left at the end of the Thirty Years' War 
in a frightful state of devastation. The population had 
reverted to barbarism and cannibalism. The political 
anarchy and the moral confusion were as great as the 
material ruin. All laws and traditions were in abeyance, 
and were over-ruled by the tyranny and personal caprice 
of petty princes. We shall find Liselotte passing merci- 
less judgment on the manners and morals of the Court 
of Versailles, but the morals of the paternal Court of 
Heidelberg were not much better. Her father, being 
unable to agree with the wife whom he married in 1650, 
dissolved the marriage on his own authority in 1658, 
and, having the supreme control of the Church as well 
as of the State, he forced his subjects to recognise his 
.bigamous union with Louise von Degenfeldt. The 
Church Courts accepted the strange situation, even as 
Luther had sanctioned the bigamous marriage of Philip 
of Hesse. Poor Louise proved a most compliant and 
long-suffering wife, and she bore her lord fourteen 
children. For many years the two wives lived together 
in Heidelberg, and the little Court was the theatre of 
endless domestic quarrels. 

It was fortunate for Liselotte that at the early age 
of seven sl^e was removed from those strange family 



May 9, i9i3 

feurroundings and was entrusted to the afTectionate care 
of her Aunt Sophia of Hanover. One of her first letters, 
written when she was seven years of age, informs us 
that in 1659 she visited her grandmother, Elizabeth 
Stuart, who lived as an exile in Holland. The ex-Queen 
of Bohemia presented her grand-daughter with a little 
dog, with a dancing-master, and a language-master. 
She also made her a promise of a singing-master. 

The four years spent at the Court of Hanover were 
the foor happiest years of Liselotte's life. Until the 
end of her days she will revert to that blissful period, 
and she will retain a passionate affection, not only for her 
Aunt Sophia, but for all those who took part in her 
early education. 

In 1663, her father, Charles Louis, finally succeeded 
in getting rid of his first wife, and in securing her 
removal to Cassel. Liselotte could now safely return 
to the paternal home, where she grew up with a numer- 
ous progeny of illegitimate step-brothers and step- 
sisters. It is characteristic of her good nature that she 
always maintained the most cordial relations with all her 
father's second family. Indeed, she grew to love her 
step-brothers better than her lawful brother, the future 
Elector Palatine. 


Life at the Court of Heidelberg was a queer mixture 
of dullness and pomposity, of pride and poverty, of free- 
dom and tyranny. Charles Louis was a martinet, and a 
pedant, thrifty and stingy, indulgent to himself, im- 
placably severe to his children and to his subjects. Being 
a good manager, he soon succeeded in restoring the 
prosperity of his country; but his political position 
remained difficult and precarious between the German 
Emperor, who was his nominal sovereign, and the King 
of France, who possessed the controlling power in the 
German Federation. Every means was deemed legiti- 
mate by Louis XIV. to increase his influence. He did 
with the German Courts what he had done so success- 
fully at the Court of Charles II. He used in turn the 
intrigues of his diplomacy, the power of money, and the 
fascination of beauty. Pensions were lavished on im- 
poverished princes. French mistresses and French 
dandng-masters were freely sent and exploited for 
political purposes. 

It was the need of strengthening his political position 
as well as the desire to get his daughter out of the way 
that determined the Elector to seek a matrimonial 
alliance with the French Court, on the sudden death, in 
1671, of Henrietta of England, wife of the Duke of 

Little did the Elector Palatine foresee that the mar- 
riage of his daughter would prove to his country, not 
a source of strength, but a cause of disaster, that 
Louis XIV. would use the claims of Liselotte as a pre- 
text for invading her father's country, that the 
Palatinate would be pillaged once more by hordes of 
soldiers, that the Palace of Heidelberg would be burned 
to the ground, and that all those horrors would be per- 
petrated on the pretence of asserting the rights of the 
Duchess of Orleans. He might have been put on his 
guard by the very eagerness with which the German 
marriage was welcomed by Louis XIV. The proud 
King would not have been so keen to accept the pro- 
posal if he had not already harboured political designs 
of his own. Not only was he then bent on extending 
his influence in Germany, not only was he coveting, like 
his predecessor Francis I., the crown and sceptre of 
the Holy German Empire, but he was determined to 
use Liselotte as a pawn in the game of politics, and 
eventually to establish a claim to the succession of the 

But those consequences of the German marriage were 
still distant and remote, hidden in the womb of Destiny. 
In the meantime, to all outward appearances, Elizabeth 
Charlotte was making a brilliant match. The marriage 
contract was arranged on terms the most favourable to 
the Elector Palatine. What was a most important ' 

matter for an avaricious Prince like the Elector, 
encumbered with a numerous progeny, a dowry, was 
not insisted on, and even the nominal sum which had 
been promised was only paid after many years' delay. 
And not only did Liselotte enter France without a 
dowry, she did not even receive a trousseau. It was a 
matter of deep humiliation to the proud young Princess 
that her father sent her to Saint Germain with a most 
inadequately supplied wardrobe. The sole condition 
which Louis XIV. insisted on was a change of religion, 
and that was more easily obtained from the Palatine 
Prince than an adequate provision of money. A 
Duchess of Orleans must needs be a Catholic. Charles 
■Louis, although one of the leaders of the Protestant 
party, thought, with Henry IV., that Paris and the 
Palais Royal and the Palace of Saint Cloud were well 
worth a Mass. To save appearances, and to make 
matters easier for her father, poor Liselotte had to act 
her part in an ignoble comedy. Nothing was said in 
the marriage contract about a change of religion, and 
she was supposed to be converted of her own free will. 
It was arranged that on her arrival in France a letter 
was to be dictated to her, in which she was to announce 
to the Elector her voluntary conversion. Her father 
was to send in reply a letter expressing his righteous 
indignation at his daughter's apostasy from the true 
Protestant faith. . . . 

After all, we need not wonder at Liselotte's strange 
conversion. It was only an application of the old 
Lutheran principle adopted from the very beginning 
of the Reformation: — "Cujus regio, illius religio." 
Religious allegiance followed political allegiance, and 
spiritual interests were subordinated to reasons of State. 

The husband to whom the simple German girl was 
married had a most detestable reputation. Public 
rumour accused him of having poisoned his first wife, 
Henrietta of England, whose sudden death has been 
immortalised in the "Oraison funebre " of Bossuet. 
"Madame se meurt! Madame est tnorte!" And 
although that accusation has been disproved, the evil 
repute of " Monsieur " was otherwise amply deserved. 
All spirit and manliness had been crushed out of him 
by Cardinal Mazarin. The younger brothers of the 
French Kings had often given trouble in previous 
generations. In recent times Gaston of Orleans had 
been one of the leaders of the Civil War. Mazarin, 
therefore, had been above all careful to make "Mon- 
sieur " a harmless fool and a compliant tool of his elder 
brother. He had only succeeded too well. 

"Phillipe, Duke of Orleans," says Saint Simon, "was 
a little round man, who seemed mounted on stilts, so 
high were his heels. Always decked out like a woman, 
covered with rings, bracelets, with jewels everywhere, 
and a long wig brought forward and powdered, with 
ribbons wherever they could be placed, highly perfumed 
and in all things scrupulously clean, he was accused of 
putting on a very little rouge. The nose was very 
long, his eyes and mouth fine, the face full, but long." 

" Madame " herself points out the striking contrast 
between the Duke of Orleans and Louis XIV., entirely 
to the disadvantage of her husband. "One would 
never have taken the King and ' Monsieur ' for two 
brothers. The King was tall, whilst My Lord was short. 
He had purely effeminate inclinations, was fond of dress, 
was careful of his complexion, loved every kind of 
female occupation and ceremony. The King was quite 
the opposite. He did not care for dress. He had only 
manly tastes. He was fond of shooting, and liked to 
talk about war. ' Monsieur ' hehavcd well on the 
battlefield, but he did not care to talk about military 
matters. ' Monsieur ' loved to have ladies as play- 
mates, and delighted In their company. The King 
preferred to see ladies more privately, and not in all 
honour like ' Monsieur.' " 

(To be conlinued.) 

May 9. ">i'J 



MRS. SIDNEY WEBB ^ ^ ^ By C. M. Lloyd 

" The world," says Emerson, "' belongs to the ener- 
getic man. His will gives him new eyes. He sees 
expedients and means where we saw none." No 
living person better proves the truth of that dictum 
than Mrs. .Sidney Webb. The quality of supreme 
energy is in all her activities; it is the keynote of her 
character. It comes out whether she is at play or at 
work — striding furiously over Alpine passes or plot- 
ting in her study the details of some social reform. 
Nay, it comes out, one may almost say, when she is 
at rest, for she wakes every morning between four 
and five o'clock, and, while ordinary mortals are 
lapped in unconsciousness, this superhuman woman 
has her brain at work upon some lecture campaign, 
the outline of a pamphlet, or the founding of a weekly 

But there are two other things to be said about 
Mrs. Webb's energy. The first is that, for the prac- 
tical purposes to which it is devoted, it is literally 
doubled by her marriage. For twenty years she has 
done all her work, wntten her books, organised her 
campaigns, side by side with a husband who is as 
active and tireless as herself. To such a combination, 
twin wills ever acquiring "new eyes," ever "seeing 
expedients and means," an astute political opponent 
has with some justice given the title of " the most 
dangerous pair of Socialists in England." The 
second thing is that Mrs. Webb has in a remarkable 
degree the power of communicating her energy to 
others. She is not only constantly at work herself ; 
she impels all around her to work. Her mere pre- 
sence at a committee banishes slackness ; even at 
dinner with her one is stimulated to eat faster! As 
to that, indeed, rapid eating is a lesson soon learned 
by her friends, for she herself is pitilessly abstinent, 
and regards a meal as, so to speak, a regrettable neces- 
sity. Many an unwary one has been hurried off 
reluctant from the cheerful board to what he thinks 
an untimely renewal of violent mental activity. 

Her disciples, those whom she inspires to work and 
scheme with her, are won and held by no feminine 
arts of cajolery (for in truth her temperament and 
her intellect are far more a man's than a woman's) ; it 
is some subtle yet intensely rational influence in her 
that compels not simply admiration but imitation. It 
is partly perhaps that her own belief in her work is 
infectious. This belief is boundless, as also is her 
pleasure in it (she will sometimes laugh at it gleefully 
like a child, in sheer joy of the thing), and un- 
doubtedly many who see and hear her are stirred by 
her dazzling, optimistic faith. 

* * * * 

If this natural energy is the driving force in the 
woman, it is her other quality of thoroughness which 
gives the finish and the solid value to her work, which 
inspires those vv'ho- help in it, and those who look on 
at it alike, with so great a sense of confidence. You 
may not agree with her aims.-you may not admire her 
achievements, but you cannot deny that all is well 
done, accurate, thorough. She does not build her 
social theories on vague generalisations. The con- 
tributions of the Webbs to sociology — The History of 
Trade Unionism, Industrial Democracy, English 
Poor Law Policy, English Local Government — and 
the rest — are all monuments of patient research. The 
Poor Law Commission, of which Mrs. Webb was a 
member, based its momentous report on such ex- 
haustive investigations as no Royal Commission had 
ever made before, investigations pushed into every 
nook and cranny of the kingdom. 

How far this passion for thoroughness is inborn in 
any individual, and how far a product of training, is a 
matter for speculation. Mrs. Webb, at least, is one 
whose early circumstances and upbringing fortified 
her against all vague or slovenly modes of thought. 
The daughter and close companion of Richard 
Potter, a great capitalist entrepreneur of his day, at 
one time chairman of the Great Western Railway, and 
afterwards president of the Grand Trunk Railway of 
Canada, she found herself in constant touch with cap- 
tains of industry, business organisers, high financiers 
— men who built their industry and their finance on 
hard facts and the accurate and detailed knowledge 
of facts. As the friend and favourite pupil of Herbert 
Spencer, she served an apprenticeship to philosophy 
under a master who, whatever his faults, certainly did 
not construct his systems on an absence of data. But, 
even so, Beatrice Potter was not content merely to 
read and listen, and it was the determination to have 
some first-hand knowledge which led her, more than 
twenty years ago (in the days when such things were 
less fashionable than now), to go down to live and 
work as a seamstress in the sweating dens of East 
London. ^ ^j # ^^ 

An ingenious journalist, in describing a public 
meeting addressed by her a year or two ago, asserted 
that Mrs. Webb's secret lay in her commanding nose, 
the nose of a Cassar. Others have compared her to 
Napoleon in her ruthless energy, her capacity for 
command, and even her disdain of the pleasures of the 
table. But whatever characteristics she may possess 
in common with those masters of the world, she is 
certainly unlike them in her attitude towards herself. 
She is utterly devoid of egotism. Even her enemies 
admit that she is supremely disinterested. Neither 
she nor her husband ever sought power for its own 
sake, still less for the sake of any material gain. They 
could say, indeed, as Napoleon said, looking back on 
his life, " I had the taste for foundation, not the taste 
for property." But they could not finish the sentence, 
as Napoleon did, by saying, " My property con.sisted 
in glory and celebrity " ; they would have to say, " My 
property consisted in devotion to the public service." 
It is this selflessness, joined with a clear and peculiarly 
unsentimental mind, that makes Mrs. Webb seem a 
little cold, almost a little inhuman. She has a 
Japanese readiness to spend her whole self dispas- 
sionately (and to demand a like sacrifice from others) 
for her ideal of the Common Good. 

« * * « 

There are Social Reformers who love to picture tlie 
world as a May-day of merriment, with "cakes and 
ale " for all, with no policemen and not too much 
government. They quarrel with Mrs. Webb because 
she exalts Efficiency and forgets Freedom. But she 
would answer that she does not forget freedom ; only 
that, without such an organisation of society as will 
make for a far higher efficiency, both collective and 
individual, you will not have real freedom, but a dis- 
hevelled anarchy. Her aim is to make of the State a 
great and finely adjusted engine for achieving the 
purposes of civilisation, of humanity, or, if you will, 
of God. 

The index to the first volume of Everyjlvn is now ready, and 
will be sent post free to any reader on application, accompanied 
bv 4d. in stamps. Cases for binding can be obtained at is. 6d. 
each, post free is. 8d. ; also Vol. I. of Eveevmak, handsomely, 
bound in cloih, price 33. 6d., carriage paid 43. Those desirous 
of obtaining the above should write at once to the Everyi.uN' 
Publishing Department, Aldine House, Bedford Street^, W.C., 
as numerous applications have already been received. 



Kav 9, 1913 

THE REAL NAPOLEON » By Charles Sarolea 


It is especially in his relations to his mother, his 
brothers and sisters that Napoleon's character reveals 
itself. A great deal of irrelevant nonsense has been 
written about his " Corsican clanuishness." It would 
be more correct to say that he had a Frenchman's 
sense of what is due to the family. In this respect 
his letters of 1795 and 1796 are most interesting read- 
ing. When he is appointed to the command of Paris, 
and when his financial difficulties are at an end/ his 
first thought is for those who are near and dear to him. 
The following extracts from his correspondence, which 
I take from Mr. Levy's volume, are just the kind of 
notes which one would expect from an exemplary 
French bourgeois. 

He writes, on October 1 8th, 1 795 : " A certain citizen. 
Billon, who, I am told, is known to you, wishes to 
marry Paulette ; that citizen is without means. I have 
written to mamma that she must not think of it. I 
shall make fuller inquiries to-day." 

On November i st : " Lucien is War Commissioner 
of the army of the Rhine. Louis is staying with me. 
I think he is writing to you. 

" Farewell, my dear friend. Give my love to your 
wife and Desiree." 

On November 9th : " The family are in need of 
nothing. I have sent them money, bank-notes, etc." 

On November 17th: " It is just possible that I may 
get the family to come. Give me a more .detailed 
account of your doings and of those of your wife and 
Eugenie. The only hardship I feel is that you are far 
from here and I am deprived of your company." 

December 31st: " Yau ought to have no uneasiness 
whatever about the family. They are abundantly 
provided with everything. Jerome arrived yesterday 
with a general (Augereau). I am going to enrol him 
in a college, where he will be well looked after." 

He was a model son, although he never was a 
favourite with his mother, altliough she often took his 
brothers' side, although she never believed in him as 
the humblest of his soldiers did believe in his star, 
although even at the Imperial Court she went on 
saving money against the catastrophe which she was 
always anticipating. On his father's death — he died 
prematurely, like Napoleon himself, from the here- 
ditary disease, cancer of the stomach— he was the 
providence of his relatives. As a young man of nine- 
teen he supported his younger brother Lucien on his 
meagre lieutenant's pay, and he imposed upon him- 
self the hardest privations. 

He not only looked after the material interests of 
his sisters, trying to establish them in life, but almost 
before he attained his majority he had assumed full 
responsibility as head of the family. He showed 
infinite patience to the vagaries of his sisters, to the 
absurd demands of his brothers ; and he used to say 
that he had more trouble in ruling his relations than 
in ruling his Empire. His sisters claimed all the 
privileges of members of the Imperial family, -without 
accepting any duties or restraints. Pauline behaved 
like a courtesan, and she shocked even immoral Italy 
with the scandal of her extravagant amours. His 
brothers claimed the thrones of Europe as their due 
inheritance, and at the same time they pretended to 
govern without any regard to the policy of the Empire. 

It may be objected that although Napoleon may 
have been exemplary in the narrow circle of the 
family, it is not proved thereby that he was bound by 
the rules of ordinary human morality. After all, even 
monsters like Fouche, Napoleon's Minister of Policej 

who, as a Terrorist, sent thousands to the guillotine, 
are often found to practise the domestic virtues. The 
simple answer to this objection is that Napoleon's 
obedience to moral rule was not confined to the narrow 
circle of the home, but that in every other sphere he 
revealed the commonplace, human characteristics. He 
was equally admirable as a student at college, as a 
friend, and as a citizen. 

To confine ourselves only to two of the elemental 
virtues, he was supremely generous and magnanimous, 
and he was unflinchingly honest. He never forgot a 
benefit conferred, and in his last will, written on the 
rock of St. Helena, he remembered acts of kindness 
received in his early years. He again and again 
forgot and forgave injuries, and he possessed none of 
the Corsican's traditional vindictiveness. It was this 
very generosity which probably proved ultimately 
fatal to him, which was the cause of his imprisonment 
and induced him to surrender to the Enghsh. Being 
magnanimous himself, he assumed magnanimity in his 
enemies. But perhaps the most startling quality in 
young Bonaparte is his almost superhuman honesty. 
In Italy, when everybody was grabbing round him, 
he alone kept his hands clean. His financial integrity 
during the Italian campaign in 1 796 and 1 797 is truly 
heroic. He was in supreme command of the Army. 
He had been given absolute political and diplomatic 
power. Hundreds of millions of francs passed 
through his hands. In Paris, Barras and Fouche 
were amassing huge fortunes. In Italy every general 
was guilty of extortion and peculation with the con- 
nivance of authority. Napoleon alone would not 
demean himself, and would not accept any "commis- 
sions " or perquisites. He remained rigidly honest, 
and returned to Paris a poor man. His schemes 
nearly failed for want of money at the crisis of his 
career, at a time when every political support had to 
be bought. Bonaparte may have thought that, after 
all, honesty was the best policy. He may have re- 
membered that part of the strength of Robespierre 
was his incorruptibility. But this does not in the 
slightest degree detract from the credit which is due 
to his magnificent integrity. 

The reader may well ask how it is that this interpre- 
tation of Napoleon's personality is so generally 
ignored, and why even his admirers so entirely over- 
look the "bourgeois" side of his character. The 
simple explanation is that there are two Napoleoxis, 
and there is little in common between them. There 
is the young general and First Magistrate of the 
Republic, and there is the Emperor. There is the 
hero who achieved greatness, and there is the ruler 
who was corrupted by greatness. The character of 
Bonaparte was very soon destroyed and transformed 
by the necessities of statecraft, and still more by the 
use and abuse of despotism, by the poisonous atmo- 
sphere of servility and flattery. But surely the true 
character of the man is his original character. Surely 
when we want to describe the constitution of an indi-i 
vidual we do not take it after it has been ruined by 
disease ; we take it in its strength and power. Simi- 
larly, if we want to know tlie real Napoleon, wc must 
study him in his radiant youth, in the epic years of 
Italy and Egypt, as he appeared to a dazzled world, 
tlae conqueror of Italy, the champion of the Revolu- 
tion, the restorer of order and liberty. The true 
Napoleon is the slim, nervous, haggard soldier of 
1796, the young man who saved France, not the obese 
and self-indulgent despot who oppressed Europe. 

_ ttAY J, 1913 



FUTURE STATE. By Maurice Maeterlinck 

From his volume, " La Morte " (Fasqiielle), By permission of the Author 

The Survival of Consciousness. 
How is the fact to be explained that upon this con- 
sciousness which is to Uve on after us the eternity 
which precedes our birth has left no trace ? Had we 
no consciousness in that eternity, or did we lose it 
when our life on earth began; and was that catas- 
trophe which causes all the terror death has for us 
brought about at the moment of our birth ? We can- 
not refuse to admit that that eternity claims the same 
fights over us as the eternity which follows our 
decease. We are children of the first as of the 
second, and of necessity we participate in both. If 
you maintain that you will exist to all eternity you 
must admit that you have existed from all eternity ; 
it is impossible to conceive the one without being 
forced to conceive the other. If nothing has an end, 
nothing has a beginning, seeing that this beginning 
would be the end of something. Now, although I 
have existed from all eternity, I have no consciousness 
of my previous existence, while I must bear with me 
through the boundless space of ages without end the 
infinitesimal consciousness acquired during the 
moment of time which elapses between my birth and 
my death. My real ego, which is henceforth to be 
feternai, would then only date from my short sojourn 
ion this earth. And the whole of the previous eternity, 
which has exactly the same value as the eternity to 
come, since they are identical, would be of no account, 
and be cast into the void ! Whence comes the pecu- 
liar privilege granted to a few insignificant days on a 
planet of no importance ? 

Our Position as Regards these Eternities. 

In tlieir number and magnitude mysteries are as 
boundless as tlie Universe. If man should one day 
draw near those mysteries which seem to him now 
the greatest and most inaccessible, as, for instance, 
the origin and purpose of life, behind them, like ever- 
lasting mountains, he would at once see others rismg 
as great and as insurmoimtable ; and so on indefi- 
nitely. As regards the knowledge needful for the 
holding of the key to the Universe, he would always 
find himself at the same point of central ignorance, 
mind infinitely' vaster and more pehetratmg than we 
do. Everything that its miraculously increased power 
discovered woSd meet with barriers no less impass- 
able than the present ones. All is boundless in that 
o^eternilv"'^ bnnnds. We shall be for ever prisoners 

Let us make a final survey of the ground we have 
covered. We have put aside both the religious solu- 
tions of the question and the theory of total annihila- 
tion. Annihilation is impossible from the material 
point of view ; religious solutions occupy a doorless 
and windowless stronghold impenetTable to human 

Next there is the hypothesis of the survival of the 
'ego, freed from the body, yet preserving full and per- 
fect consciousness of its own identity. We have seen 
that this hypothesis, if we keep within its narrowest 
limits, has only a slight element of probability and a 
doubtful amount of desirability, although the fact that 
it discards the body, source of all our ills, makes tlie 
state of existence which it conceives seem less to be 
feared than our present one. On the other hand, the 

moment we attempt to extend or enlarge it, so that it 
may seem less barbarous or less primitive, we get 
back to the hypothesis of universal consciousness or 
of modified consciousness, which, together with t^iat 
of continued existence without any form of conscious- 
ness, precludes all further supposition, and exhausts 
the possible forecasts of the imagination 

Continued existence without any form of conscious- 
ness would be the same thing for us as annihilation 
pure and simple, and therefore would be no more to 
be feared than the latter, that is to say, than a dream- 
less sleep which would know no awakening. The 
hypothesis is undeniably more acceptable than that 
of annihilation, but it prematurely and very daringly 
disposes of the questions of universal consciousness 
and modified consciousness. 

The question is to know how we are going to re- 
gard eternity. Is it an unchanging and unchangeable 
eternity, perfect and at its zenith from everlasting, 
and is it a purposeless Universe which our reason is 
to conceive when the utmost bound of thought has 
been reached 1 Do we believe that at our death the 
illusion of movement and progress which we behold 
from the remote depths of this life of ours will sud- 
denly fade away.^ If so, it becomes inevitable that 
the moment we breathe our last we shall be absorbed 
into what, for lack of a better expression, we call the 
universal consciousness. 

Or, on the other hand, do we think that death will 
show us that the illusion is not that of the senses but 
of the reason, and that in an undeniably living world, 
in spite of our prenatal eternity, we have not under- 
gone every kind of experience ; that is to say, that 
movement and evolution still continue, and will never 
and nowhere cease? In that case we must perforce 
admit the hypothesis of modified or progressive con- 
sciousness. Both these views are fundamentally and 
equally unintelligible, but yet tenable, and, although 
irreconcilable, they agree in this one point — that end- 
less pain and hopeless misery are equally and ever- 
lastingly excluded from each. 

The hypothesis of modified consciousness does not 
entail the loss of the small amount of consciousness 
almost negllgiuie, iC auanuuilb n, siiijvs ii, aiier-aj*-- 
solves it in eternity. It is naturally impossible to 
support this hypothesis with satisfactory proofs ; but 
it is not easy to demolish it like the preceding ones. 
If it is allowable to speak of the probably true, when 
ui^ i^i.ij. Clival ,.^ 1VX.W,. ;„ cu-^ „.^ cannot see the 
truth, this is the most probably true of the provisional 
hypotheses, and gives magnificent openings for the 
most plausible, varied and seductive dreams. Will 
this ego of ours, or soul, or mind, or whatever name 
we give to the thing which is to survive us and yet 
to remain ourself, regain on leaving our body the in- 
numerable lives it must have lived since the aeons 
which had no beginning .' Will it go on growing 
and assimilating all it will come into touch with in. 
etemity dur'ng the aeons which will have no end ? 
Will it linger for some time about our earth, leading 
in regions invisible to our eyes a more and more noble 
and happy life, as theosophists and spiritualists 
maintain ^ Or will it go on to other planetary sys- 
tems, emigrate to other worlds of which our senses 
do not even suspect the existence? 



ISay }. 1^13 


*'The Ordeal oe Richard Fkvkrel," by George Meredith 

This masterpiece of Meredith's is pre-eminently an 
epic of youth. The freshness, tlie audacity, the un- 
conquerable courage of life's springtime bloom in the 
pages of " Richard Feverel." The hero has all the 
frankness and a touch of the healthy egotism of the 
British youth. He captures one from the start with 
his love of adventure, sudden outbursts of high 
spirit ; above all, his capacity for friendship. 
Meredith shares with Dickens the rare capacity for 
reading a boy's secret wishes, understanding the de- 
sires and ambitions of his heart. It has been said 
that the Richard of later years fulfilled none of the 
promise of his schooldays, and that, lilte David 
Copperfield, the man shows no trace of the boy. 
.Something of this we feel when, after RicTiard's mar- 
riage with Lucy, in defiance of his father's commands, 
he falls back on a policy of procrastination utterly at 
variance with the headstrong fervour characteristic of 
his boyish escapades, and of the unembarrassed can- 
dour with which he confesses to them. 

It will be remembered that Richard was the victim 
of a system. His father. Sir Austin, believed in re- 
ducing everything to the level of a formula. He wished 
his boy early to learn life's lessons, and to read into 
them the finality of a proposition of Euclid. He 
leaves out the accident of emotion, however, and his 
schemes for the apotheosis of his son are upset by 
Dick's meeting with the daughter of a farmer, and, of 
Meredith's many brilliant women, the one that stands 
out as the most convincing and appealing is Lucy 
Feverel, as fresh and fragrant a creature as ever was 

With a sublime acceptance of his genius, Meredith 
flings down a challenge in the title of the chapter 
dedicated to the lovers' first encounter. Hq calls this 
" Ferdinand and Miranda," and never since the love 
scenes in " The Tempest " has anything more ex- 
quisite been written. The flush of ecstasy touches 
the words with rose, and as we read we hear the lark 
singing in the blue of the middle lieaven, and the 
reeds by the water side quiver in the breeze. 

" The youth looked on her with a glowing eye. It 
was the First Woman to him. 

" And she— >p:yikinrl was aJJ Cajihaa tQ.h£r^§4vioS 

" So to each other said their changing eyes in the 
moment they stood together; he pale, and she 

" She was, indeed, sweetly fair, and would have 

been held fair among rival damsels. On a magic 

shore, and to _g. v tjHt h p'^^ c^j'"^ hy -^ t-Mrtam rt-r.iri« 

-WCTT-zin ai i o w dirawn to the head, he, it might be 

guessed, could fly fast and far with her. . . . The wide 
summer hat, nodding over her forehead to her brows, 
seemed to flow with the flowing heavy curls, and those 
fire-threaded, mellow curls, only half curls, waves of 
hair call them, rippling at the ends, went like a sunny, 
red-veined torrent down her back almost to her 
waist : a glorious vision to the youth, who embraced it 
as a flower of beauty and read not a feature. . . . For- 
ward and back love's electric messenger rushed from 
heart to heart, knocking at each till it surged tumul- 
tuously against the bars of its prison, crying out for its 
mate. They stood trembling in unison, a lovely 
couple unto these fair heavens of the morning." 

From this exquisite duet it is but a step to the 
cleclaration of their passion. There follows a clan- 

destine marriage. Sir Austin is impossible and im- 
placable. Richard feels that now, if ever, he should 
justify his father's system — the system tliat prepared 
him to judge things by their internal worth rather than 
their face value. And Lucy, for all she is a farmer's 
daughter, possesses a radiant spirit, an exquisite 
serenity of soul, in keeping with lier fragrant beauty. 

And on the marriage ensues tlie tragedy. Two 
young things launched in a great adventure, the hus- 
band feels his responsibility to his wife pull against 
his duty to his father. .Sir Austin, with his diabolical 
system that seeks to reduce human nature to the le\el 
of a science, will only pardon his son on conditions. 
And the terms he makes is that Richard must consent 
to pass through a period of probation before he can 
earn forgiveness. He is to leave his young wife, part 
from the woman he loves with the strongest fibres of 
his nature, until such time as it shall please the " scien- 
tific humanist " to permit their reunion. 

At first Richard flatly refuses the command. Lucj', 
under the counsel of Cousin Adrian, " the wise youth '' 
who fulfils the function of an epigrammatic Greek 
chorus throughout the story, weakens his resolve. The 
exquisite art of Meredith is nowhere better shown 
than in the confidences between the young girl and tlie 
man of the world. She falls an easy prey to his sug- 
gestion, forms a passionate determination to justify 
Richard's choice in Sir Austin's eye?, and uses all her 
influence to send her husband from her. 

And this brings us to the second act. Richard con- 
sents to go, and sets the seal of weakness on his 
character. The chapters dealing with his subsequent 
life in London are as fresh and as true as if they were 
written yesterday. Richard's opinions of men and 
things, tlie women he encounters, the experiences he 
meets, are told witli a brilliancy of style that sets the 
novel on a pinnacle of artistic achievement. 

Lack of space prevents our touching, save in the 
briefest fashion, on the daring episode between 
Richard and the woman whom Mrs. Berry — most in- 
imitable of landladies — calls " Belladonna." The 
name describes her ; she is one of those feline 
creatures that are born to prey upon the vanity of 
hbHh rgyhiT^Wifgr-^gi yiA g^ ii-it Wi t h bisappo miiirenr 
and disillusion, surrenders to the woman's cliarms. 

The culmination of the scene that leads up to 
Richard's downfall is rendered with a force that 
sweeps everything before it. 

not divine sorrow but a devouring jealousy sprang 
like fire in his breast, and set him rocking with horrid 
pain. He went closer to her pale, beseeching face 
Her eyes drew him down. . . . 
" ' Lost, Richard ! Lost for ever ! Give me up ! ' 
" He cried : ' I never will ! ' and strained her in his 
arms, and kissed her passionately on the lips. . . , 
" Not a word of love between them ! 
"Was ever hero in this fashion won? " 
The Belladonna was acting under the directions of 
a nobleman, by name Mountfalcon, and one of her 

My lord, meeting Lucy in the Isle of Wight, loses 
his head over her beauty, and later, to do him credit, 
feels for her a real emotion and respect. Finding 

{CcKtinucd en fc^e no.) 

Mjit ;, 19 1} 





Five applications for the services of each qualified Student. 

Commercial Careers for 'Varsity and Public School Men. 

We have been favoured by a copy 
of this interesting document, from 
which we learn that the past year 
has been by far the most prosperous 
in the history of the College. The 
unique distinctions of the Gold 
Medial and the Diploma of Honour 
for Secretarial and Commercial 
Training, awarded by the Jury of the 
Festival of Empire, igii, to 
Kensington .College, have now 
been duplicated by the Manchester 
Winter Exhibition, 1912-13. 

During the first two months of 
term, an overwhelming number of 
applications was received for the 
services of Kensington College 
Graduates. Owing to the supply 
being unequal to the demand, it was 
only possible to partially satisfy it. 
Applications were for Resident 
Private Secretaries, some from 
Peeresses, one from an eminent 
Professor, other inquiries were 
from Clubs, Hospitals, well-known 
Journalists and Authors, and several 
from important City Companies. 

In order to cope with the demand, 
it has been necessary to advertise 
again in the public Press, inviting 
applications from ex-Students of the 
College desirous of improving their 
position, but, from their point of 
view, it is doubtless satisfactory 
to be able to state that prac- 
tically no response has been re- 
ceived; in fact, there is every 
reason to believe that not a 
single Graduate of Kensington Col- 
lege is unrmployed, and furtlicr, 
that tlic-y ha\e no wish to change 
their present satisfactor)- appoint- 

During recent years several Stu- 
dents have been sent from College 
to positions in England and abroad, 
some even as far away as Japan, 
where Kensington College Students 

have started an English Ladies' 

The question of Commercial 
Careers for 'Varsity and Public 
School men is now engaging public 
attention. The College has during 
Term been successful in securing 
for a 'Varsity man an introduction 
to an important position at a com- 
mencing salary of /^, leading up 
to an Assistant E)irectorship at a 
salary of £5°'^ ^'^'^ upwards. 

Kensington College is described 
by Sir Samuel Evans as "a progres- 
sive Institution." We may venture 
to go further and style it an educa- 
tional force that is probably doing 
more for the progress of English 
Commerce to-day than we can anti- 
cipate from armaments. Practical 
training for the practical duties of 
life is the keynote of all work at this 
powerful institution. So great is the 
demand for the services of its 
graduates that during the last 
twenty-six years — in fact, ever since 
it was established — every qualified 
student has had a choice of at least 
half a dozen dignified and remunera- 
tive appointments from which to 
select a congenial career; a striking 
testimony to the efficiency of the 
College training. The result of a 
recent investigation by the' College 
Accountant shows that the applica- 
tions from employers for the services 
of the College Graduates exceeded 
the number of candidates available 
in the proportion of one hundred to 
fifteen. In other words, fifteen stu- 
dents had a choice of no fewer than 
one hundred appointments between 

A College with such a record com- 
mands the most serious considera- 
tion of everyone, and a knowledge 
of the secret of its success is a valu- 
able asset to all who are interested 
in the future of England's sons and 
daughters. The utterances of 

eminent men assist us to probe that 
secret. The Earl of Lytton, whea 
the full facts about the College were 
before him, found expression for his 
surprise in the phrase, " Have every 
hope all ye who enter here," an anti- 
thetical variation of Dante's famous 
inscription. Lord Lytton's words 
have been adopted as the motto of 
the College. A Knight of the Legion 
of Honour and an ex-President of 
the British Chamber of Commerce 
in Paris, when opening Winter 
Term recently, said, "As an Institu- 
tion for the training of our future 
business men and women Kensing- 
ton College stands first and fore- 
most." Comment upon such pro- 
nouncements is superfluous; facts 
about the Institution which inspired 
them are more interesting and of 
greater value. 

Kensington College was estab- 
lished twenty-six years ago, and 
during the last few years it has beeri 
located a short distance west of Pad- 
dington Station, at the corner of 
Gloucester Terrace and Bishop's 
Road, one of the most fashionable 
and healthy parts of the Metropolis. 
These premises, opened by Her 
Grace Katharine Duchess of West- 
minster, stand in their own grounds, 
every window faces trees or com- 
mands a view of beautiful gardens — - 
an ideal situation for study. Modern 
languages hold a leading place 
among the subjects taught. Gratify- 
ing successes at the Examinations 
of the London Chamber of Com- 
merce, the Royal Society of Arts, 
and other public bodies, testify to 
the thoroughness of the training in 
all departments of the curriculum. 

The College watches over stu- 
dents' careers after they have left 
the Institution, assisting them to 
new appointments when necessary. 

The Director is ever ready to give 
his advice on the subject of a suit- 
able career for boy or girl person- 
ally or by post. 

A card addressed to Miss E. V. 
Munford, Secretary, Kensington 
College, 34, Gloucester Gardens, 
London, W., will bring by return 
of post an Easter Report, an Illus- 
trated Prospectus containing full 
particulars of the Guaranteed Ap- 
pointment System, and an Illus- 
trated Souvenir of the 21st anniver- 
sary, similar to those graciously 
accepted by Her Majesty Queen 
Alexandra, and Her Royal Highness 
Princess Louise Duchess of -Argyll. 

Students are now being enrolled for next term in order of receipt of their application. 

• Candidates desirous of Training under the only Gold Medal system extant, for a variety of appointments from 
which to select a congenial career, should write at once for Illustrated Prospectus and Souvenir, post free. 

Tel. No.: Pad. 4348. 

Mr. J. V. MUNFORD. F.R.C.I., M.R.S.A.. Director, 

34, Gloucester Gardens (Corner of Bishop's Road), Hyde Park, W. 




Richard has left his wife, he designs to capture her for 
himself, and instructs the Belladonna to make Richard 
her own. But tiie latter makes the mistake of caring 
for Dick too much to ruin him ; she refuses to estabhsh 
permanent relations between them, and discreetly dis- 
appears. Richard, half mad with misery and remorse, 
is free to return to his wife and child ; for by this time 
Sir Austin has been ameliorated by the advent of a 
thoroughly human and undoubtedly scientific grand- 

And then comes the final step in the tragedy. Bella- 
donna tells Richard the part Lord Mountfalcon 
played, and Richard vows he sliall pay for it. He will 
fight a duel and wipe out the insult by an appeal to 

On tlie eve of his departure to meet Mountfalcon 
on the Continent, he comes home^home to the wife 
he has forsaken, the child he has never seen. And 
the meeting between the man and woman is one of 
the most wonderful scenes ever written. 

Lucy, do you know why I came to you to- 

" She moved her lips, repeating his words. 

Lucy, have you guessed why I did not come 
before? • • . I did not come because I was not worthy 
of my wife ! Do you understand ? 

" ' Darling ! ' she faltered plaintively, , . . ' what 
have I done to make you angry with me ? ' 

" ' O beloved ! ' cried he, the tears bursting out of 
his eyes. 

" ' O beloved ! ' was all he could say, kissing her 
hands passionately. ... 

But you love me ? Richard ! my husband ! you 
love me ? ' " 

He answers the appeal in broken words and tremu- 
lous caresses, and then, driven on by the whips of 
remorse and self-scorn, torn by the conflicting emo- 
tions of love and revenge, he tells her he must leave 
her and the child ; and the faithful Berry, who has . 
followed Lucy with devotion ever since her marriage, 
discovers the poor young mother sitting on the -floor, 
senseless, her child in her lap. 

The conclusion of the book cuts to the very quick 
of the soul. It is exquisitely painful to read, and 
arouses a passion of regret that in itself is a tribute to 
the genius of the man who could conceive it. Richard 
avenges his honour, fights his duel, is dangerously 
wounded, and is brought back to England raving in 
delirium. For a time the reader fears Richard will 
pass from his ordeal to death. But a worse fate re- 
mains for him ; and the climax comes with a force of 
a personal loss upon the reader. 

It is Lucy who dies. And the description of her 
end whips smarting tears to the eyes and brings a 
surge of pity and regret to the heart. 

" Her last hold of reason was a thought for Richard. 
. . . Had she seen her husband a day or two before — 
but no, there was a new system to interdict that, or 
had she not so violently controlled her nature as she 
did, I believe she might have been saved. . . . Her 
cries at one time were dreadfully loud. .She screamed 
that she was ' drowning in fire,' and that her husband ! 
would not come to save her. We deadened the sound | 
as much as we could, but it was impossible to prevent j 
Richard from hearing. . . . Whenever she called, he | 
answered. You could not hear them without ! 
weeping." ' 

" Have you noticed the expression in the eyes of | 
blind men? That is just how Richard looks, as he i 
lies there silent in his bed, striving to image her on I 
his brain." t 

We feel, as wc close the book, that for Richard ! 
life's ordeal has but just commenced. 

9. I9'3 




The appeal to history upon this subject in a recent 
issue of Everyman by Arthur Owen Orrett— evoked 
in some measure by my book concerning " The Eng- 
lish Stage," which he honours me by quoting — proves, 
albeit most wittily, little beyond the simple fact that 
dramatists from .^schylus to Galsworthy have, more 
or less in accordance with the conventions of their day, 
written about the eternal theme of vice and virtue in 
sexual relationships. Most folks agree that ethical 
standards change with changing time. The ideals of 
to-day may become the realities of to-morrow. The 
moral code of fifty years hence will, in all probabihty, 
differ considerably from that of 1913. Compare, for 
example, the recommendations set forth in the 
Majority Report of the recent Divorce Commission 
with those outlined in the Minority Report. 

" Is there any future for the sexless drama ? " writes 
Mr. Orrett. Obviously not. Some relationship be- 
tween the sexes, individual or collective, actual or 
implied, must of necessity be a factor of greater or 
less importance in every play. However, to do Mr. 
Orrett justice, he makes his position clear enough 
when he asks if there is " no room for plays of which 
the mainspring is ambition, or political upheaval, or 
financial crisis, or social wrong and economic helpless- 
ness ? " To this I reply, " Aye ! room enough' and to 

Shaw, Galsv/orthy, and Barker may fairly be con- 
sidered the pioneers, as far as this country is con- 
cerned, of a new dramatic movement, and they cer- 
taitily deal, upon the whole, with real problems, both 
social and economic, in as sincere, searching, and 
sympathetic a manner as stage convention and a ridicu- 
lous censorship allow. It is beside the question for 
Mr. Orrett to twit me with the fact that in " The 
Eldest Son" Galsworthy departs from the standard 
subject of " The Silver Box," " Strife," and " Justice," 
because these very sex problems — or shall we say 
with him "sex-obsessions" ? — are so closely inter- 
woven with the texture of modern society, and can be 
unravelled only so far as we are prepared to change 
existing conditions, or, in other words, to attack the 
root of our social evils. 

When I wrote that the Victorian dramatists were 
content with eternally ringing the changes upon the 
theme of wife, husband, and the other fellow, the usual 
gamut of sex-dramas, or the copybook sentiment of the 
" teacup and saucer " school, I was not so much con- 
cerned as to the virihty or utility of sex-drama so 
called, but rather more keenly intent upon proving the 
utter unreality of it all. 

" The great dramatist," says Shaw, " has something 
better to do than amuse either himself or his audi- 
ence. He has to interpret life." It is common know- 
ledge that Shakespeare promulgated the same truth 
when he wrote his famous vade meaim for players. 
Now, to hold the mirror up to nature, or to concern 
themselves with the verities or realities of life, was 
the last thing that entered the minds of our mid-Vic- 
torian makers of " sausage-drama " (I congratulate Mr. 
Orrett — verily a good and happy phrase), or even that 
of the latter Victorians, whose aim was primarily to be 
"theatrical." Rarely, save by accident, were they at 
all natural. They studied stage exigencies rather 
than attempted delineations of real life. 

In considering, therefore, the question so ably raised 
by Mr. Orrett, it is important to rrmomhi^r tli.-it no 

M.iy 9. 1913 



objection on the part of any earnest social reformer 
is offered to plays dealing with licit or illicit sexual 
relationship, always provided the problem is tackled 
in sincerity and truth. 

Musical comedy, in common with the Restoration 
drama, treats the matter of irregular sexual relations as 
a huge joke. Pinero dramatises sex questions 
seriously enough at times, but rarely, as Mr. Orrett 
truly remarks, goes to the kernel. Shaw, on the other 
hand, under the cover of brilliant dialogue and pene- 
trating witticism, probes deep down to the seat of dis- 
orders, showing men and women to be, more often 
than otherwise, the victims of a vicious environment 
wliich is the natural sequel of society as at present 

I am not sure that I quite agree with Mr. Orrett in 
regarding "Candida" as a better play than 
"Widowers' Houses" ; but, even so, the main point 
whicli the dramatist wishes to urgg is the iniquity of 
our denial to woman of that political equahty with 
man which more than any other cause keeps her in 
economic bondage to him, and compels her in very 
sooth to make marriage a trade. 

What, then, is the cause of that sexual looseness 
which keeps the divorce and coroners' courts busy, and 
incidentally provides the usual stock-in-trade of the 
average " commercial" play wright, who, doubtless with 
Mr. Orrett, regards the sex-motive as normal in drama ? 

Is it not that modern capitahsm breeds everywhere 
a class of rich drones leading aimless lives of luxury 
and pleasure, and who frequently seek refuge from a 
nauseating ennui in the stimulus of illicit or abnormal 
sexual connections ? To support these idlers in a life 
of vacuous and vicious indulgence millions of men, 
women, and children are condemned to labour long 
hours for miserable pay under conditions which, in 
spite of much beneficent ameliorative legislation, con- 
tribute day by day to the black harvest of destitution, 
disease, crime, prostitution, and premature death 
which year by year our social system entails. 

Have we a dramatist who dares tell the truth ? That 
is the question. There are some playwrights un- 
doubtedly prepared to do this, but two great obstacles 
block the way to any real advance in sincere, search- 
ing but sympathetic exploitation of social and economic 
difficulties as themes for the dramatist. One arises 
from the common acceptation of the theatre as in the 
main a source of mere amusement, and therefore 
primarily a commercial speculation ; the other and, 
alas! more formidable barrier, which every sincere 
dramatist detests, is that effete and ridiculous censor- 
ship which the dull, listless apathy of a sheep-like 
British public alone tolerates and endures. 




Died May 18, 1909 

Prophet of love's ideal in human kind, 

Dauntless unraveller of the twisted skein, 

You wove your web of happiness and pain 
And hope's frail thread to which we erst were blind. 
A soul undaunted, beaten by the wind, 

Ever you strove the loftier heights to gain ; 

But now we name you with the illustrious slain, 
Yielding, with heads bowed down and hearts resigned, 

To this the Universal Conqueror's claim ; 

Not in the pain of unattained desire, 

But in the wonder of the task complete, 

Because you taught our spirits to aspire. 

We lay this trophy humbly at your feet — 

The deathless glory of an honoured name. 

Horace Shipp. 



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Hat t, 191} 

THE SPIDER ■* > > By Andre Theuriet 

Did you ever notice in autumn, when the trelhses are 
festooned with npe grapes and the leaves on the 
bushes are turning red, large, delicate spiderwebs, 
whose design is both perfectly geometrical and also 
artistic, f raJ, transparent traceries like the haiest of lace, 
strung with dewdrops like the tiniest of pearls and 
lasting barely for a day ? These elaborate, diaphan- 
ous embroidenes, to which the peasants near me give 
the beautiful name of airanteles, are the work of an 
industrious spider whicn has a plump, round body 
adorned with a pale gold cross and bears the scientific 
name of ifeire diadime. This spider has a perfect 
passion for work, and her mariners are so original 
as perpetually to pique my curiosity. I say, " her " 
manners, because it is the female of this species of 
arachnida that plays the most interesting part ; she 
alone is the spinner, and works from dawn to dark 
to earn her living by the sword. The male is merely 
a thm, slender insect, who spends his brief existence in 
wandering about on the edges of the webs, timidly 
making proffer of his services as a husband, and often 
risking his skin in this perilous profession. When he 
makes his awkward advances on the web spun by the 
lady of the house he cautiously shakes one of her 
threads as an announcement of his presence and then 
retires precipitately if he perceives that the spinster is 
too much absorbed in her industry to be in the mood 
for gallantries. When, by chance, the lady is willing 
and the ardent swain finds that his hour has come, she 
condescends to receive him, and they become a happy 
pair on the spot Their love-making is short and 
there is no lingering over it The moment it is 
accomplished, the lady, who looks on every minute 
as precious, considers her lover a thing of no value 
and brutally turns him out. But, on the other hand, 
if he has arrived at the wrong moment, and persists 
with a foolish obstinacy, woe betide him ! In the 
twinkling of an eye she seizes him bodily and winds 
a network of her threads around him, and the would- 
be lover is devoured on the spot by the scornful and 
ruthless amazon. 

Two years ago I came early to the Riviera, and I 
was living in a villa halfway up the hill between La 
Turbia and Rocabruna. It was the middle of 
October, and a great year for the diadem spiders. 
Their webs stretched along every road between the 
branches of the roses and the spiked leaves of the 
aloes, and I spent many a long hour watching the 
habits of the laborious web-spinners. 

One morning I set out on foot to breakfast in 
Mentone, and, on my way, near the forks of the road 
from Monte Carlo to Rocabruna, I halted to look at 
an epeira busy at her work of spinning. The spider 
had already set up the polygonal circumference. of 
her tracery and stretched the threads radiating to it 
from the centre. Now, with intense earnestness, head 
down and abdomen up, she was spinning the con- 
centric circles of her network, and I was admiring the 
swift deftness with which she pulled out her thread, 
stretched it with one of her feet, and glued it firmly 
to each successive radius. At this moment I heard 
a step behind me, and a voice said, " A brave 
spider, monsieur, and not in the least afraid of 

I turned round, and saw before me a man neither 
young nor old, tall and thin, with blue eyes having a 
somewhat sleepy expression in them. Long, grizzled 
whiskers adorned his face, which certainly might be 
called distinguished, but seemed faded, not to say 

wasted. An ulster, half-unbuttoned, disclosed that he 
was in evening dress, and had probably been up aD 
night. He had tlie address of a gentleman, but the 
haggard features, the faded complexion, and a cer- 
tain febrile nervousness about him betrayed an 
internal wastage, due to the corrosive effect of some 
inveterate and imcontrollable passion. 

" Yes," repeated my unknown friend, lightly raising^ 
his hat, "a valiant httle animal, this spider! She 
never is fool enough to throw the handle after the 
hatchet. ... Only fancy, monsieur, that last night, 
starting for Monte Carlo . . ." 

He must have noticed my glance at his coat and 
his white tie, for he interrupted him.self with the ghost 
of a pale smile. 

" You are surprised to see me in evening dress at 
this hour of the morning .' I have been spending the 
night below there, first at the ' big place ' and then at 
the club. . . . And, to be frank with you, I'd have 
done better to go home ! " 

I was right ; my unknown friend cherished in his 
bosom the most besetting of passions, the love of 
gaming. He had the nervous loquacity of the 
gambler, and the usual mania for holding forth to the 
first-comer on his good or bad luck. 

"The whole night," he repeated, "I had the luck 
dead against me. Not one of my numbers came up. 
Now, yesterday evening, as I was starting, I passed 
by here and saw this very spider sitting in the middle 
of her perfect web. I don't know what possessed me, 
but with one wave of my stick I stupidly destroyed 
the frail tracery spread out there in the sunset light. 
... It brought me no luck, for, as I told you, I found 
my luck was clean out! ... A regular Waterloo, 

He broke off to watch the insect busy over her task. 
" Admirable little creature ! " cried he. " There she 
is, courageously repairing my misdeed of yesterday; 
she does not lose heart ; she gives me a lesson. . . , 
I was intending to go home first and refresh myself ; 
but I should have to endure the questionings and 
lamentations of my family, and that would turn the 
luck against me afresh. I have some louis still in my 
pocket, and, besides, I can always borrow from 
Charles, the hotel-keeper, at the Cafe de Paris. 
Would you oblige me ? " 

He took a pencil and card from his pocket and 
scribbled a few words on it ; then he turned to me : 

" You see that rose-coloured villa nestling ampng 
the lemon orchards? . . . That's my house. If you 
would kindly go up there and give the card to my 
servant, and say that it is from Count Paprocki. . . . 
That will set my wife at ease, and I can go back to 
roulette with a clear conscience. Au revoir, monsieur, 
and many thanks. . . . Ah, excuse me." 

He had twisted a piece of paper into a cone, and, 
before I could make out what he w-as up to, he had 
deftly caught the spider in the middle of her net, 
popped her into it, and very carefully stowed her 
away in his pocket. 
" That will be my mascot," said he. 
He put his heels together, bowed, twirled round 
and started back to Monte Carlo. 

All that remained for me to do was to acquit myself 
of the commission so oddly entrusted to me. I went 
up the lemon avenue and rang at the rose-coloured 
villa. As I handed Count Paprocki's card to the 
footman, I saw the curtain of a ground-floor window 

llAT S, IjitJ 



drawn partly aside; I had a glimpse oT the pale, 
anxious face of a young woman ; then the curtain 
was drawn again, and I set out once more for 

Two days later, at Monte Carlo, as I was walking 
in the garden in front of the Casino, I found myself 
again in the presence of Count Paprocki. He was 
coming down the Casino steps with a triumphant air. 
He knew me and, coming up, offered his hand. 

"Thank you once more, monsieur! You see be- 
fore you a man who can win all the money he wants. 
I was right not to lose heart, and the spider brought 
me luck. I have just played the maximum on zero, 
and zero came up twice running. These two days 
the luck has never left me. . . . So, in memory of 
this brave spider, I have had a pin made just like 

He pointed to a pin in his scarf, the head of which 
was an ifeire diadhnc, and then, with a bow, he went 
his way, triumphantly swinging his stick. 

Twice or thrice afterwards I saw him from a dis- 
tance in the gaming-rooms ; then I was suddenly 
called away to Paris, and left La Turbia before the 
end of the season. 

The next October saw me there again, and one 
morning, walking along the road to Rocabruna, I 
recognised the rose-coloured villa with its lemon- 
shaded alleys. The shutters were up and the garden 
seemed deserted ; but what caught my eye was a new 
white cross of marble at the entrance to the avenue, 
with no inscription visible save two initials and a 

I saw a man breaking stones beside the road, and 
asked him what the monument was for. 

" That," answered he, " is the tomb of a count who 
lived in the villa there on your right A fine fellow, 
monsieur, who had but one fault, he was too fond of 
play. And he was a little off his head. Just fancy ! 
He couldn't see a spider when he was going to play 
without putting it into his pocket. He said the 
creatures helped him to win. All the same, he was 
completely ruined. One morning, on his way home, 
he sat down just there and coolly blew out his brains. 
He left his wife and children nothing but eyes to weep 
with. Poor lady, she had that cross put up to him, 
nevertheless, before they went away." 

I went up to the cross. The newly cut surface of 
the marble sparkled in the sun, and across one of its 
angles on efeire diadhne was weaving her web with 
calm deliberation. Backwards and- forwards she 
travelled in perfect confidence. You would have 
sworn she knew that now she had nothing to fear 
from the dead gambler below, with his mad fancy 
for collecting spiders in the guise of mascots. — 
Translated by R. B. Toivnshend, 


Those who have stood with Mr. William Watson 
beside " Wordsworth's Grave," listening to the Rotha 
as it whispers its shy secrets to the hills, will lay down 
his new volume of poems with surprise and disappoint- 
ment. .Hitherto, Mr. Watson has brought us peace ; 
now he brings us a sword, and he has even steeped 
its blade in acid. Once he led us beside still waters ; 
now he comes, armed to the teeth, thrusting his 

• "The Muse in Exile." By William Watson. 3s. 6d. net. 
(London ; Herbert Jenkins, Ltd. J 

weapons of satire and scorn, right and left, into the 
ranks of his readers, and routing out unfortunate 
critics and politicians from their citadels of assumed 
authority. In a word, Mr. Watson is labouring under 
a delusion ; and, if we except a few love songs and 
nature poems, which breathe the familiar austerity of 
charm, the whole of the present volume, including the 
introductory essay, which has been delivered as a 
lecture to American audiences, lies, in unrelieved 
gloom, beneath its shadow. . 

The misconception which oppresses — and, indeed, 
one might almost say paralyses — Mr. Watson's mind 
is the idea that England is on the decline through 
her absolute apathy towards poetry, and this, he main- 
tains, is due to the wilful betrayal of the reviewers, 
who, with mutinous hands, have torn into shreds the 
old standards of literary criticism. 

" Verse — a light handful — verse again I bring ; 
Verse that perhaps had glowed with lustier hues 
Amid more fostering air : for it was born 
In the penurious sunshine of an Age 
That does not stone her prophets, but, alas, 
Turns, to their next of kin, the singers, oft 
An ear of stone : in bare, bleak truth an Age 
That banishes the poets, as he of old, 
The great child of the soul of Socrates, 
Out of his visionary commonwealth 
Banished them ; for she drives them coldly forth 
From where alone they yearn to live— her heart ; 
Scourges them with the scourge of apathy, 
From out her bosom's rich metropolis. 
To a distaiu, dreary province of her thoughts, 
A region grey and pale." 

That is the main burden both of the verse and the 
prose contained in this volume ; and it must be 
admitted that it makes cheerless reading. The more 
one cries for the star, the more discontented is one 
likely to become with the earth ; and we choose to 
think that it is the very intensity with which Mr. 
Watson yearns for an England where, from end to 
end of the land, poetry shall be duly honoured by all 
classes that causes him to exaggerate the present com- 
parative indifference with which it is regarded. That 
it w regarded with comparative indifference no com- 
petent judge would deny ; but those who have their 
fingers well on the pulse of the literary world can 
testify that the emphasis lies on the " comparative." 
Society has been remoulding itself to such a radical 
extent during the last twenty-five years that it would 
probably be impossible for any man of letters to loom 
so largely in the public eye to-day as did some of the 
giants of the Victorian age in their day— even had 
we any such giants. But it is certainly a fact that we 
have, at the present time, a select band of true, if not 
outstanding, poets, whose work never lacks quite a 
reasonable measure of appreciation. Mr. Watson him- 
self has always had a loyal audience ; and the names 
of other poets readily occur to the mind whose volumes 
are awaited by a considerable public with eager 
interest ; while those who keep a weather-eye 
upon the literary horizon report fairer conditions 

No ! Things are not so bad, after all ! Clouds may 
gather across Parnassus, as across Helvellyn ; but the 
spirit of poetry is eternal and inextinguishable as the 
sun. We close this volume with the feeling that it 
is Mr. Watson's own muse that is in exile ; and, with 
the gracious memory of his former work fragrant and 
fresh in the mind, we hope that a full flood-tide of 
inspiration will very quickly surge in and rescue it 
from the unfertile shores where it would seem for the 
moment to lie captive. 

Gilbert Thomas. 



Mat g, 1913 



TrBAsIattd by ALFRED SUTRO. Illustrated iaColour by E. i. DETMOLD 

Special Edition on Arnold Pftpcr. (,S«c:mJ littiticn.) 


M. UAEJERUUCK writes: "Alt Dotmolcl's plates which represent 
bees are real, Incontestable CHEFS D'CEUVRES, and as fine as a 
Rembrandt. The Interiors of the hives seem works of genius." 

PALL MALL GAZETTE.—" The feature of this sumptuous reprint 
is Its beauty of form, and a series of lovely colour reproductions." 



With a NEW ESSAY on "Our City Gardens." 

Tr.ins!ated by A. TEIXEIRA DE MATTOS. 

With 20 £ull-par;e Plates in Colour, Designed Cover and Title 


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In colour leave nothing to be desired." 

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Translated by ALFRED SUTRO, 

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London: GEORGE ALLEN & CO., Ltd., 44 & 45, BATHBONE PLACE 



To be completed in Twelve volumes. 


DAILY TELEGRAPH.— "It is not easy to know who should be 
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What, I wonder, is going to be the future of the Blue 
Revieiv? This is a new literary monthly, the first 
number of which appeared on May ist. Considering 
that not a few magazines (some of them old-estab- 
lished and ably conducted) have ceased publication 
during the past few years, one may be forgiven for 
being sceptical about new ventures of this sort. But 
I make an exception in the case of the Blue Review, 
which marks a new development in the management 
of English literary magazines. It will be conducted 
on co-operative principles. The idea is not exactly 
original, for certain French magazines are success- 
fully worked on these lines. Indeed, it is this fact 
which has emboldened a band of young English 
writers to try the experiment. 

* * ♦ » « 

The contributors to the Blue Review have bound 
themselves to write regularly for the magazine, with- 
out payment, for a period of nine months, at the end 
of which time a profit-sharing scheme comes into 
operation. Under tiws scheme all the profits, after 
the deduction of working expenses, will be divided 
among the contributors. Of course, it does not neces- 
sarily follow that .what has succeeded in France will 
succeed here, but, on the whole, I am inclined to be 
optimistic, more especially as the Blue Review has 
made an excellent start. 

» « « » * 

My recent paragraph on Dr. Russel Wallace's lite- 
rary performance at the age of ninety has brought me 
a letter calling attention to an equally remarkable 
case. I refer to Mr. A. B. Todd, the doyen of Scot- 
tish journalists. Mr. Todd, who is now in his ninety- 
second year, was a nonagenarian when he corrected 
the proofs of his " Covenanting Pilgrimages " 
(Oliphant, Anderson and Ferrier), a book which ex- 
hibits more of the Covenanting spirit than any other 
work with which I am acquainted. I am glad to 
learn that Mr. Todd, despite his ninety-two years, is 
still doing a considerable amount of literary and jour- 
nalistic jvork. 

« « « « • 

A paragraph is going tlie rounds to the effect that 
Mr. A. J. Balfour's irregular attendance at the House 
of Commons is due to the fact that he is busy writing 
a book on political economy. It may be so, but I 
suspect the real reason is that the ex-Premier is 
grappling with the subject-matter of his Gifford Lec- 
tures, which are to be delivered at no distant date. In 
this matter Mr. Balfour is following in the footsteps 
of his political adversary. Lord Haldane, who, ten 
years ago, delivered a brilliant course of Gifford lec- 
tures, which were afterwards published under the title 
of " The Pathway to Reality." 

» « * « » 

One of the best selling books at present is " Later 
Reminiscences," by the widow of the late Principal 
Story, of Glasgow University. Dr. Story was for 
more than a generation a leader in the Established 
Church of Scotland, and at all times a redoubtable 
ecclesiastic. As a royal chaplain he was a yearly 
visitor at Balmoral in Queen Victoria's time, and, as 
minister for nearly thirty years'of the beautiful parish 
of Roseneath, on tlie Clyde, he was an intimate friend 
of the Argyll family. A long list of distinguished 
people, beginning with Mrs. Oliphant, visited the 
Roseneath manse, and it is no exaggeration to say 
that Dr. and Mrs. Story, for a considerable period, 
met a great many people who were well worth know- 
ing. Mrs. Story had^ therefore, plenty of excellent 

May 9, 1J13 



material for a book of the anecdotal order, and she has 
iiade good use of it. The work is being widely quoted, 
cind I am not surprised. 

* « • * • 

Mr. Murray is publishing immediately a half-crown 
edition of a Httle book, the demand for which has 
never ceased since its publication some fifteen years 
..go. This is " The Five Windows of the Soul," being 

: popular account of the human senses by the late Mr, 
li. H. Aitken, who had many friends both in India 

aid in this country. It is a book of marked origi- 
nality, and stimulating in the highest degree. Among 
those who, like myself, had the privilege of knowing 
Mr. Aitken, he was regarded as a man of virile intel- 
lect and winsome personality — a man whose excessive 
modesty and distrust of his own abilities kept him from 
playing a notable part as a thinker and as a writer. 
He was cultured in the best sense of the word, his 
knowledge being wide, exact, and always available, 
while his style exhibited a literary finish which was 
surprising in one who wrote comparatively little. 

* » « * « 

The centenary of the birth of Robert Murray 
M'Cheyne, the famous Scottish preacher, occurs on 
May 2 1 St. M'Cheyne was only thirty when he died, 
but he lived long enough to exert an evangelical in- 
fluence tliat is felt to this day. His biography, written 
by Dr. Andrew Bonar, was published along with a 
election of his sermons and addresses in 1844 under 
he title of " Memoir and Remains of Robert Murray 
I'Cheyne." Nearly 170,000 copies of this work have 
been sold, while large editions of the Life (without 
the Sermons) have also been called for. A centenary 
edition of the Life has just been published by Messrs. 
Olipliant, Anderson and Ferrier, while a centenary 
edition of the " Memoir and Remains " will be issued 
by the same firm in a few days. For the latter, Prin- 
cipal Whyte, of New College, Edinburgh, has written 
a commendatory note. 

» « » « « 

" The Tragedy of Education " is the title of a little 
volume which Messrs. Constable are publishing 

liortly. The author, Mr. Edmond Holmes, a well- 
known educationist, starts with the assumption that 
much of the present-day system of education must 
inevitably be consigned to the melting-pot. He not 
only discusses the defects of existing educational 
methods, but the means by which, in his opinion, they 
may be remedied. The book also outlines the work 
done by Madame Montessori, whose system is attract- 
ing so much attention at the present time. Mr. 
Holmes' work ought to prove helpful in guiding the 

iiovement for reform towards a wise issue. 

Motley recounted brilliantly the history of the rise 

f the Dutch Republic. Now we are to have a work 

racing the growth of the factors that led to its final 

falla. century later. The book is entitled "The Fall 

of the Dutch Republic," the author is Mr. H. W. van 

Loon, and the publishers are Messrs. Constable. 

» » * ♦ » 

Messrs. -Jack announce " The Battlefields of Scot- 
land." Xhe northern kingdom is rich in battlefields, 
ind I am surprised. the subject has not attracted some 
rilliant pen ere now. The author is Mr. T. C. F. 
iJrotchie, who professes to deal in picturesque fashion 
• ith those scenes which witnessed the long and bitter 
struggle for national and religious freedom. Mr. 
Brotchie illustrates his volume with a series of draw- 
ngs, the result of a tour of the .Scottish battlefields. 

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Notice to Correspondents. — Owing to the large number 
of letters received it is necessary for correspondents to writ* 
briefly if their letters are to appear. 

To the Editor oj Everyman. 

Sir, — " This scientific and sociological clairvoyance 
is a kind of parlour game for literary persons which 
is more amusing than profitable." So says Mr. 
Sidney Low in his article, " Is Our Civilisation 
Dying?" in the Fortnightly Review for April, in 
reference to a recent book by one Dr. Hubbard on the 
lines of Mr. Hubert Bland's article, " Is the Human 
Brain Degenerating? " Mr. Low's comment is equally 
applicable to the latter : it is " a parlour game for 
literary persons." 

The " rules " of the game are these : — 

1. Two clever parents produce clever offspring. 

2. One stupid parent spoils all. 

3. You are required to answer the following ques- 
tions : — 

id) John Shakespeare having been something of a 
fool, what sort of person was his son William? 

{b") William's children having prov-ed to be 
nobodies, what sort of person was Ann Hathaway, 
(i) if WilHam was the clever fellow he is reputed to 
have been, (2) if he was the ignoramus the Baconians 
say he was? 

4. The answers must be more or less in accordance 
with rules i and 2, but the wittiest answer wins. If 
the party cannot agree on the winner, the matter is 
referred to Mr. Bland, whose decision is final. 

I submit the following answers: — 
{a) A bigger. 
(/>) (i) An idiot. 

(2) A fit wife for such a noodle. 

Some of your readers may like to join in the fun. 

The game is also profitable — if it sends you to 
your biographical books of reference. By the time 
you have looked up the parentage of any half-dozen 
of the world's greatest literary men, you will have 
come to the humble, un-Bland-like conclusion that 
genius, that wonderful flower, bloweth, if not where 
it listeth, yet in most unexpected places ; that it is 
not altogether " the result of certain external con- 
ditions," but is due, in part at least, to " some inward 
impulsion, some mysterious hfe-force, coming we 
know not whence, going we know not whither." 

Mr. Bland was obviously holding a brief. Let us 
hear the advocate on the other side — say Mr. Sidney 
Low. — I am, sir, etc., • EDWIN Sykes. 


To the Editor of Everyman'. 

Sir, — It is astounding to realise the blind optimism 
of your correspondents on the above subject. 

If I may assume that Mr. Bland is referring to 
mental brain-power — a purely abstract thing — not to 
physical brain or brawn^ that is found in the human 
skull, as a teacher, I am amazed that, at a time when 
we are officially told that England is going behind 
every other nation in Europe on the question of edu- 
cation, it could be said brain power is developing. 

Every thoughtful teacher in England knows that 
brain power, which is the result of natural intelli- 
gence, is lying idle through a false conception of 
education. It is brawn, not brain power, that is 
exercised. We can't have our cake and eat it. The 
reason for the loss of brain power in England is a 
simple matter of logic. " It is no trifle that is at stake," 

May 5, 1513 



said Epictetus, at a time like the present, "when the 
young bloods among the Pagans were lying idle, and 
they had no higher conception of life than " bread 
and games." " The thing is, are you in your senses or 
are you not ? " History has answered the question. 

Work and genius are indissolubly connected. 
Edison, on being asked to what he attributed his 
genius, replied : " It was two per cent, genius and 
ninety-eight per cent, hard work." Every mental 
effort has its development in brain power. If the 
effort, strenuous and continuous, be not made. Nature 
does not build up the power to think or to reason. 
One of the first psychological axioms we learnt at 
college in the past was, " Never do anything for 
children that they can do for themselves. Show them 
the way, then leave them to climb it alone." The 
modern child does not know practically the meaning 
of the word " task." 

The Germans, we read, are the "brainiest people 
in Europe." If they are, they undoubtedly make 
their own brains. The methods of training in ele- 
mentary schools in Germany to-day are, in vital 
matters, exactly those which we followed in the past 
instinctively, in training according to Nature's laws 
which she has written on the human heart. If we 
follow the promptings of Nature in secular education, 
that is, the secular work, that equips mankind with 
trained mental gifts, we find that the moral laws are 
a natural corollary of true education. — I am, sir, etc.. 

Stoke Newington, N. A SECULAR TEACHER. 

To the Editor of Everyman. 

Sir, — Although I had not the good fortune to read 
the article in EVERYMAN on "Socialism and Busi- 
ness Enterprise," there are one or two points in con- 
nection with Mr. W. A. Finch's letter of recent date 
which seem to call for some' further explanation. 

Mr. Finch is evidently very much concerned about 
those people who are wavering, as it were, on the 
brink of Socialism, and who must be saved at any cost 
from taking a plunge into the depths of the doctrines 
of revolution. 

Now, as I am sure that all of us who have already 
taken the plunge will be filled with alarm on reading 
Mr. Finch's letter, with its suggestions of hidden 
perils, he will be performing a great service by point- 
ing out some of those dangers in o^^^-^^-^"--^^ "^^^_ 

tnevably damned, that haply he may save others from 
a like awful fate. 

In order to avoid any chance of misunderstand- 
?, perhaps^ k^j^^,iy><^jtY^^=tate at once and_ plainly 
.;i reality. First, they desire that every man, "worn an, 
and child shall be properly housed, clothed, and fed. 
Has Mr. Finch any quarrel to pick with that? Then 
they say that the benefits of education and culture 
should be open to everyone, and not, as at present, 
the monopoly of those " who toil not, neither do they 
spm." Moreover, these same Socialists look with 
horror on the long roll of crime, prostitution, child 
labour, and other evils which they believe to be the 
inevitable result of a (misnamed) society, where every 
man's hand is against his neighbour's. To them the 
sacrifice of human beings, body and soul, on the altar 
of progress is revolting, and contrary to all the teach- 
ings of all the world's greatest philosophers and 
moralists, including that Christ in whom men profess 
to beheve, but to whom they render only lip-service. 
In short, the Socialists are struggling towards a great 


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_ Naturally, Mr. Levison has already communicated his 
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and beautiful ideal, which may be called tlie King- 
dom of God, and for the realisation of which they 
claim the assistance of all good and noble men and 

As a last word, and as I know that Mr. Finch will 
say that our ideal is beyond reach, that Christ was an 
idle dreamer, with no practical knowledge of the 
world, and that the methods we propose " will not 
work," I ask him to take a walk through some of the 
slums of East London, and then teU us solemnly 
and truly if he considers that the present system 
works. Further, I would respectfully present for his 
careful and thoughtful examination the proposition 
that, in order to attain these ideals, it is only neces- 
sary to make men believe in them, and that is pre- 
cisely what we Socialists are trying to do, thereby 
apparently causing Mr. Finch much uneasiness. 

With many apologies for taking up so much of 
your valuable space, I am, sir, etc., 

Addiscombe, Croydon. R. C. DooDY. 

To the Editor of Everyman. 

Sir, — The disciphne which your correspondent, 
" Manager from the Ranks," deplores being absent is 
a different thing from the discipline originally under- 
stood by the word. To-day it does not mean conform- 
ing to rules necessary for the welfare of the commu- 
nity, but obedience to certain economic canons, of 
which, seeing that so large a number of the population 
are always on the verge of starvation, the least that 
can be said is that they are both cruel and false. These 
canons, teaching, as they do, that the worker can ex- 
pect a bare subsistence only, are commonly supposed 
to hold the secret of national prosperity; and it is 
obedience to this doctrine which passes muster as 
discipline. Shade of Philosophy ! " Manager " says 
that the evil conditions of the workers are due to lack 
of discipline, i.e., they do not submit with sufficient 
docility to the rule and system which give to the em- 
ployer and organiser all the rare and refreshing fruits 
of intellectual and material production, and to the 
employed (the disciplined) a minimum immunity from 

It must be borne in mind that the happier position 
of the employer and the organiser is not due to a 
natural superiority in intellectual capacity. They are 
no more naturally bom intellectual aristocrats than 
ence"'Ts''yiIp^^^ naturally bom servitor. The differ- 
grabbing i3.Stiiei'' y^Qi'lh''^sAvc-^ti9psk.9f4 WSifl^Xr. 
These facilities offer to the one opportunities to enter 
positions where moderate efficiency is rewarded with 
all the soHd delights that _^^rp Vfifehjj^fj^ach of the well- 
being' permitted to hve— and being disciplined. — I 
am, sir, etc., " DISCIPLINED." 


To the Editor of Everyman. 

Sir, — Will you permit me to controvert some of the 
statements raised in your issue for April 25th by a 
" Manager from the Ranks " and " Individualist " ? 

Your correspondents assert that IndividuaHsm is 
the only system capable of providing efficient " organi- 
sation, management, industry, initiative, to say 
nothing of character, loyalty, and other individual 

Let me state the problem. Given a country and 
a people, how can we— the people — organise the 
activities of the whole people so as to produce the 
highest welfare of all? 

Individualistic method: Liverpool has 15,000 

1Ia> 9, 1213 



dockers. Number required daily — 8,ocxD to io,ooc. 
Result : chaos ; at least 5,000 unemployed daily ; 
cheap labour ; appalling suffering and degradation of 
character and efficiency. 

Socialistic method: all industry so organised — ■ 
shorter hours, sessional trades, etc., etc. — that every 
man would be employed, and would earn a full week's 
wages all the year round. 

As to Initiative, the genius must invent, or write, or 
compose. The best work is done for little or no 
money. Under Socialism every person would have 
the opportunity of working and developing his capa- 
cities to tlie fullest. Given security for a decent exist- 
ence, most men and women would scom to work for 
the mere purpose of gain. Ft is only the competitive 
scramble for a living which makes people seemingly 
avaricious. Socialism would make life secure, and so 
set free the loigher instinct of helpfulness. 

It is admitted tliat Responsibility builds up 
Character. At present the majority of people have 
few opportunities of exercising and developing Re- 
sponsibility. Their activities are ordered by the 
owners of land and capital, who permit the workers 
to live under a roof, and to work. The millions 
dare not live, work, think, and read as they would 
like to do. Socialism means Liberty for aU individuals 
— liberty to live and work,'liberty to enjoy fair wages, 
liberty to express thoughts, hberty to develop one's 
individuality to the fullest, so long as one does not 
encroach on the equal liberty of the others. 

Under Individualism you cannot be moral. If you 
do not directly lie, rob, bear false witness, murder, 
it is only because someone else does it for you. Rent 
is robbery ; interest is robbery ; unearned increment 
is robbery ; goods bought cheap at the cost of human 
life is murder ; your whole life is a cowardly com- 
promise. Socialism would harmonise principle and 

I have not attempted to prove how Socialism 
would do these things. I am prepared to do so at 
the proper time. What I have shown is that Indi- 
viduaHsm does not provide for the highest welfare of 
all people. — I am, sir, etc., 

Harold A. M. Brangham. 

Golder's Green, N.W. 

To the Editor of Everyman'. 

Sir, — The article on " Pacifism and Imperiahsm," by 
Enrico Corradini, in your issue of April 25th, seems 
open to criticism on many aspects, which I have 
neither the time nor space to deal with now. His 
classification, for instance, of pacifists is absurd; he 
has forgotten the fourth and most important class, 
viz., those who are pacifists from an economic and 
social point of view, without either sentimentality or 
bombast. I can only deal here with his principal point. 

The main proposition which this writer appears to 
maintain may be summed up in his sentence, " Wars 
of conquest pour new life into a countrj'," etc. But 
do they? He instances Italy's conquest of Tripoli, 
but Tripoli had been conquered by war many times 
before, and where was the new life ? The Turks con- 
quered Tripoli by war, and where was the new life 
then? "and so on. What he appears to mean is that 
when Italy conquers a country new hfe is poured in. 
This seems to resemble the ideas of jingo English- 
men, who imagine that Providence designed tlie 
British nation to conquer all sorts of foreign countries 
for tliose countries' good. 

A war of conquest may be followed by an inflow of 
new life and energy into the conquered country, and it 

A, IVemarKable Letter 

from an I-minent A.nat;?nii9t. 

43. RnsscJl Square. Lottdon. 

Dear Mr, Cox,-~Your lessons, or, rather, the ex^lmuUioiiof 
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for the purpose of memory traininn. Yon need have no /car 
with regard to the correctness of your physioloijy, which t.s 
correct in every detail, and your sy.stein is, I ant sure, the 
correct method of thoroughly impiuding upon the brain cells 
and causing tlient to react in response to the impulses sent 
to them. You see thai you call into play the work of the 
nerve endings in the cells by force of will in the .satnc 
manner in which they would be called into play by the 
senses through the organs of the eyes, ears, ami fingers, and 
the iniPnlses/oPs in the brain without being sent out aginn 
and dissipated in the use of those organs , which is natuniUy 
more or less of a drain upon the body. 

Your system also compels concentration in three or per- 
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opinion that the reason of all Poor memory was the inability 
to concentrate, and you have been able to explain in a very 
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I am quite sure iliat your sysieni / '-l result in a 

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particularly the Power of storing impressions. 

I am quite sure also that your system will be of the very 
greatest assistance in maintaining and even in restoring the 
health of the physical tissues.— Yours siiuzerely, J. J . MA Y. 



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may not. That is the danger of allowing such a 
means to such a precarious end. This writer's main 
proposition is only true on chance occasions, and, like 
all such appeals to physical force, is capable of 
unUmited and very dangerous extension. 

The only other point I can refer to here is this. It 
is not necessary to have a war of conquest to pour new 
life into a country. Consider how British — and other 
— capital has poured new hfe into the Argentine with- 
out any war of conquest. The only wars in that 
region of South America among the governing powers 
are deterrents, not aids to business, and these powers 
are beginning to see the folly of such wars. 

Enrico Corradine's arguments appear to be just the 
same old arguments in a new " Imperial " form, and, if 
he has an influence on Italian thought, I regret it is 
not devoted to other and, to my mind, better ends. — 
I am, sir, etc., W. Edward Meads. 

Bexhill-on-Sea, April 27th, 1913. 

To the Editor of Evervm.\n. 

Sir, — Signor Corradini's article on " Pacifism and 
Imperiahsm " so aptly exposes the mind of the so- 
called Imperialist all over the world, and is so full of 
florid generalities, half truths, and misapplied analo- 
gies, that I suspect your letter-bag will be filled with 
attacks on one or other of the pseudo-arguments used 
by the writer. I would, however, presume on your 
generosity to place before your readers the views of a 
plain man on the subject. 

Firstly, the three kinds of pacifists. I quite agree 
that war is harmful to the interests of the large 
majority of financiers and plutocrats, and that if it 
were otherwise the probaVjility that they would be- 
come war advocates is proved by the armour-plate 
ring scandals now being exposed in Germany. 

As regards the sole reason put forward to explain 
the attitude of Socialists to war, I do not think Signor 
Corradini will find one man in a thousand to take his 
statement seriously. Little as I may accept the 
Socialist programme as a practicable or advantageous 
policy, there, is no doubt in my mind or in that of the 
majority of unbiassed inquirers that Socialists through- 
out the world are dominated by the desire to secure 
better life conditions for the majority. That being 
so, it would be necessary for your contributor first to 
prove that war was other than harmful or merely in- 
effectual in its results on the life of that majority be- 
fore he could put forv-ard the shadow of a reason for 
stating that Socialists were acting falsely to their ideals 
in opposing warfare, or that they do so solely in the 
interests of class-warfare. 

The long argument that war is the quickening force 
of the world, as peace is its organising and conserving 
force, is plainly founded upon an amazing misconcep- 
tion of the teachings of biology. To attempt to 
uphold so untenable a theory as that war between 
nations is in these days merely a further illustration 
of the world-old law of the survival of the fittest 
would seem impossible except to one blinded by the 
glamour of a recent war. 

As regards individuals, war is, of course, the decay 
or destruction of the fittest. No country sends its 
weakest or consumptive or feeble-minded citizens to 
fight its battles. No, such citizens remain at home to 
reproduce their defects in the next generation while 
the .stronger and sounder units go forth to possible 
and sometimes certain destruction. 

To the statement that " war, whether it manifests 
itself as war or as revolution, is the force which re- 
vives our social organisms," it is only necessary to ask 
its application to the continual wars and revolutions 

May 9, 1913 



of some of the Republics in South America. I quite 
agree with Signer Corradini that revolutions, taken 
in the bulk, where they are revolutions against a form 
of tyranny, do revive social organisms, and that wars 
undertaken for the same purpose, such as the Itahan 
war of unity fifty years ago and the presenc Balkan 
war, answer his assumption, but I totally deny his 
statement as an absolute result of war in every form 
cr for any object. 

I should also like to ask your contributor whether 
he considers the Turkish war of conquest, which added 
the Balkans to the Turkish Empire in Europe, is an 
exception to his unqualified statement that " wars of 
conquest pour new life into a country " and establish 
a productive race in the place of those who, according 
to this proposition, must be an unproductive race 
because they have been conquered. 

Finally, as to the writer's justification of the Italian 
war in Tripoli on the ground that Italy has, by estab- 
lishing itself as conqueror of Tripoli, accomplished a 
task of justice and of advantage to the world by re- 
placing the unproductive Turk and Arab by the pro- 
ductive Italian. If the Italians had been frustrated in 
their task by a powerful Turkish navy they would pre- 
sumably then have been proved to have no claim to 
be a more productive race than the Turks. This is an 
absurd conclusion, and therefore the original premises 
cannot have been sound. 

Also, surely there are more productive races than 
the Italians. They cannot claim so great a produc- 
tivity as the German race, or so successful a colonising 
ability as the English. Therefore, I presume, Signor 
Corradini would consider either or both England and 
Germany would be justified, if not theoretically com- 
pelled, to undertake the reconquest of Tripoli from 
Italy, or the conquest of Italy itself, in the same world 
interests by which he seeks to justify the Italian raid 
on the Tripolitan shores. 

I am sorry to trespass so greatly on your space, but 
would be giad, indeed, to read your contributor's reply 
to the points raised in this letter. — I am, sir, etc., 

April 26th, 1913. Victor Molloy. 

To the Editor of 

Sir, — I have been struck by the reflectless scep- 
ticism and the antagonistic spirit by which the corre- 
spondents of your cur-rent issue of EVERYMAN have 
replied to the excellent and provokingly plucky article 
of Mr. Money's on the abohtion of the working classes. 

One writer says the middle classes have the hardest 
work and no trades unions, which strikes me as being 
rather cool and green — a green Hailstone from the 
prolific isle of Jersey. I should suppose that if that 
writer works very long hours he reaps the full benefit 
of it, at least I hope he does. 

" Now surely," writes another, " there is other work, 
and hard work, too, besides manual labour? Does a 
clerk do no work ? Am I a ' drone ' because I don't 
mend roads or build houses? If I want to build a 
house it is just as necessary to think how to build it 
and to draw the plan as it is to put one brick on top 
of another. Is not this also ' Work That Must Be 
Done'?'" Is it not surprising, Mr. Editor, that your 
correspondent should ask such a question? I would 
suggest to the writer of these questions that he try 
and read Mr. Money's article with sympathy, which I 
more naturally do, as I am an ordinary working man, 
and then he will readily see that Mr. Money has no 
idea of excluding these as workers of the work that 
must be done. 



The road to Prosperity is, as everybody knows, not 
the straight, smooth, long road of our desires; it is a 
devious, rough, and sometimes dillicult road to follow. 

Yet I venture to think that the majority of "side- 
tracked " wayfarers upon that road have something 
other than the road to blame; often, I think, themselves. 

Nothing is more piteous than the man— or the woman 
— who is "in the rut," a-rusting upon some dismal 
byway of commerce; yet being more the result of fault 
than of opportunities. 

It cannot be too often said that there arc as many 
opportunities in the world to-day as at any stage of the 
world's history; even more, the busy business world is 
full of chances to "get on "; full of the beginnings 
which, rightly used, end in prosperity. 

Every year extends the sphere of business; every year 
adds to its activities, and every extension brings a 
crowd of chances to the men and women who want to 
"get on." 

Advertising is one of the most notable recent 
examples of a new plan of business-creating occupation, 
and good opportunities for thousands. 

Ten or twelve years ago, advertising was, to a great 
extent, in its infancy in this country; we were only on 
the verge of those developments which to-day afford a 
lucrative occupation for many workers. 

It is to such professions as these, that the man or 
woman "in a rut" should turn in search of progress; 
for then progress is possible. _ 

An easy and safe avenue of approach is supplied by 
the excellent and practical course of correspondence 
instruction in advertisement-writing and designing 
which the Practical Correspondence College offers. The 
Practical Correspondence College is an institution which 
has already proved of immense value to men and women 
all over the country, who, refusing to "rust " in the by- 
way of business, at a starvation wage, have sought a 
field where their brains could be used to profitable 

I know one young fellow — a shop assistant in the pro- 
vinces some six years ago — now occupies a manager's 
position in one of the biggest and most successful adver- 
tising firms. 

He was trained to success by the P.C.C. 

I know another who not four years ago was working 
very hard in uncongenial employment at a very small 
salary. To-day he is acting' as advertising representa- 
tive for a thriving newspaper. 

He also was trained to success by the P.C.C. 

I could multiply these cases a hundredfold, and not 
exhaust one half of the remarkable instances of how a 
P.C.C. training can lift a man up from obscurity and 
poverty to a good position and a lucrative income. 

To the man or woman, then, with the ambition to 
prosper and the energy to devote a little spare time to 
preparing themselves for betterment I can indicate no 
better course of action than to write to the Secretary of 
the Practical Correspondence College for a copy of 
"Brains and Ink," an illustrated and thoroughly inter- 
esting booklet on the possibilities of the advertising pro- 
fession and the means which the P.C.C. place at its 
students' disposal to aid them in qualifying for a well- 
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"Brains and Ink " will be sent post free upon request. 
Address, the Secretary, Practical Correspondence Col- 
lege, 77, Thanet House, Strand, London, \\'.C. 



UAT 9, 19:] 

It is marvellous what sympathy does in the criticism 
of work, play, books, science, art, and in fact any- 
thing; and it is, indeed, in these social questions of 
ours needed more than anything else. 

The next correspondent asks, "May I ask would 
the same wages be given to the honest and dishonest 
worker " ? Well, sir, I have in this active present time 
known of cases where the dishonest worker received 
more than the honest one in the same business ; and 
will any capable thinker say that justice in the matter 
of wages is the order of our day ? I think Mr. Profit 
must drop his " justice," f 6r the question is. What has 
•^not wliat will — become of it? And as to equation 
in the distribution of wages, I will proffer one sugges- 
tion in answer to him and to your correspondent 
" Senex's " query as to his imaginary army of inspec- 
tors. We will suppose that "a body of workmen form 
themselves into a company for the purpose of carry- 
ing on a specific business, themselves doing all the 
work necessary to that business, and on conditions 
of equal wages and equal sharing of the profits and 
responsibilities of that business. Will they not be- 
come all inspectors without any additional expense, 
and would not the lazy and dishonest bounder have a 
bad time of it ? — nay, I think they would make a better 
man of him. • 

Now, a body of workmen have as much right as any 
other corporation of men to establish a business on 
equal rights of work, remuneration, distribution of 
profits, and in committee of responsible government; 
if this is admissible, I cannot see for the very life of me 
why it is not as just for the whole nation to do it, be- 
cause in that there is this further advantage, that, if in 
any department of the State a member of that specific 
corporation shows an inaptitude for its work, he can 
with advantage be transferred to another for which his 
faculties are better adapted. This is only one reason, 
but a multitude of others will suggest themselves to 
the practical mind. 

Bums has told us, " A king can mak a belted knight, 
a marquis, duke, an' a' that; but an honest man's 
aboon his might," and what he applies to his Majesty's 
prerogative applies also to his Parliament. No, it 
cannot make us honest; but it is that other magical 
and merciful power which Napoleon began to realise 
in his days of captivity — a power which he recognised 
as holding the greatest dominion on earth — the love of 
the homeless Man of Nazareth, Emanuel — God with 
us; that love which makes Christianity a "self-deny- 
ing ordinance," and whose symbol is the Cross. When 
that comes amongst us we shall soon right ourselves. 
There will be no want, but work with peace and 
pleasure. — I am, sir, etc., William R. Lethaby, 

To the Editor of Everyman. 

Dear Sir, — I have read with much interest and 
sympathy the article by Mr. J. R. Clynes, M.P., on the 
" Use of Books to Working Men," which appeared in 
your issue of the 18th. If there is a blessing on him 
who makes two blades of grass grow where only one 
grew before, and Dean Swift said there was, he is a 
happy man, too, who can teach others to care for good 
reading and open a door for them to the palace of books. 
As Mr. Clynes says, " ^.lany a good book is as a gate- 
way leading from a long round of drudgery and effort 
to obtain the means of daily bread," and nothing is 
truer than that " the one department in which all work- 
men should ensure increase is the department of 
thought and outlook." The article brought at once 
to my mind the National Home-Reading Union, with 
which I have been associated for many years, and the 

very valuable work it is seeking to do in kindling fresh 
interest in books and helping people to read in the 
most profitable way. Many working men have but 
little time for reading : they cannot afford to waste it 
on second-rate books. For such there could be np 
better adviser and helper than this Union, with its 
widely varied lists of recommended books, its maga- 
zines with suggestive articles upon them, and, above 
all, its reading circles for mutual stimulus and help. 
" It has been the making of my mind," a village cobbler 
once said, speaking of his association with the I 'nion, 
and this is typical of the Union's work and inflm nee. 
I have nothing to add to Mr. Clynes' arguments with 
regard to the value of books to working men — he 
touches all aspects of the question, and makes the 
case clear and unanswerable— but I should be glad if 
you could kindly find room for this letter with refer- 
ence to the very useful Association I have described. — 
I am, sir, etc.^ J. ScOTT LiDGETT. 



To the Editor 0/ Everym.w. 

Sir, — I was astonished to find your revicT^'cr 

waxing scornful in EVERYMAN of the 2nd inst anent 

Mr. Spencer Muirhead's Hnes : — 

"Or I shall see with quiet eye 
The dappled paddock loping by." 

It seems to me that he remarked truly that in his 
ignorance he supposed a " paddock " was a term 
applied to fields or pastures. Of course it has this 
meaning, but is it not also an old English word for a 
frog or a toad? Does your reviewer know that 
exquisite child's grace of Robert Herrick's? Surely 
the use of the word " paddocks " does not convey the 
idea of fields or pastures in the following : — ' 

"Here a little child I stand, 
iHeaviug up my either hand ; 
Cold as paddocks though they be. 
Here I lift them up to Thee 
For a benison to fall 
On our meat and on us all." 

In the light of this meaning, I submit that tlie phrase 
" the dappled paddock loping by " is a very happy 
description of the speckled frog jumping through the 
green, newly spnmg grass, and I am surprised to find 
in the pages of your excellent paper a disparaging 
remark regarding the couplet, which a httle thought 
or inquiry would doubtless have prevented. — I am, sir, 
etc.^ W. NowLAN Sherlock. 

Liverpool, May_4thj 19 13. 

To the Editor of Evervm.\n. 

Sir, — Prof. Phillimore, in his article on the JEndd 
in your issue of the 25th ult, would seem to have need- 
lessly gone-out of his way to express his antipathy to 
Puritanism, and to assert, as though it were common 
knowledge, that Cromwell and Milton were rogues of 
a very base sort. 

His phrase, " as morally leprous with hypocrisy as 
Cromwell," will surely cause some resentment in those 
who, recognising the narrow outlook of Cromwell, yet 
see through all his life a lofty aim and an admirable 
singleness of purpose. 

To understand his life one must grasp the intense 
religious faith he held, and of which his political 
actions were a direct outcome. The sober and serious 
mind of the Puritan, embittered by the remorseless 
persecution of Laud, and narrowed by seeing all his 
hopes of a Puritan England passing away, had con- 
ceived an intense conviction of his individual respon- 
(Cantiniitd on fa^! ^-A) 

IfAT 9, 19«3 





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Mat t, tt'S 

sibility to God, and saw the divine leading in every 
aspect of his hfc ; and this was no mere dogma, but a 
very vivid part of his inmost hfe. 

Such was Cromwell's faith when the outbreak of 
the Civil War called him from his farm in the Fens ; 
and in his rapid rise in the Army, and later in the Par- 
liament, he felt himself individually called by God to 
save England and the religion he believed to be the 
highest one. To us it may seem a pathetically narrow 
conception of life that only the Puritans should be the 
chosen people of God ; but it is well to remember that 
men had been forced by the events happening all 
round them to think of liberty and Puritanism and of 
the High Church of Laud and tyranny. Granted its 
narrowness, there was no trace of selhsh ambition in 
the Puritans, still less of " leprous hypocrisy." Crom- 
.well's aim was pure and high, and though his religious 
convictions were responsible for some tragic mistakes, 
they also enabled him to live a straight and upright 
life through a time of very great temptations; and 
though these convictions caused him to be harsh and 
cruel to his former oppressors, he believed he did it 
to the " glory of God." 

His words, " God knows I would have been glad to 
•have lived under my woodside and to have kept a 
flock of sheep rather than to have undertaken this 
government " ; and again, as he was dying, " I would be 
, willing to live, to be of further service to God and His 
people, but my work is done. Yet God will be with 
His people," give a just view of a great man, to whom 
England (and Prof. Phillimore) owes much. — I am, sir, 
etc., Fairplay. 

Sudbury, April 30thj 19 13. 


'The Adventuress, by George Willoughby (Max 
Goschen, 6s.). This is an attractive volume of short 
stories which should appeal to those of our readers 
who prefer their reading in breathless spasms to the 
quieter form of narrative. The tales are decidedly 
well written, and range over a large section of the 
human em.otions. They can hardly be described as 
anything more than light sketches, however, and com- 
prise chiefly episodes in the lives of the various char- 
acters which may be regarded more or less as " turn- 
ing-points " in their affairs. The first story in the 
book, which gives its name to the whole collection of 
sketches, is written with a notable delicacy, but, at the 
same time, gives a clear insight into the character of 
the heroine, Nina. This lady, while apparently in love 
with one man, does not regard it as at all out of the 
way to go out to supper and a midnight drive with 
the fiance of her friend, and subsequently to fall 
asleep, after a highly emotional evening, clutching a 
letter from her legitimate lover and to dream sweet 
dreams of him, quite forgetting her latest flame, who is 
driving away in the cab which brought her home, 
hugging himself in the belief he has made a conquest. 
The stories are not all in this vein, however, and there 
is one, " The Sea Captain," which cannot fail to appeal 
to our readers, revealing, as it does, how terribly diffi- 
cult it is sometimes to get away from environment, and 
that one's so-called "freewill" is so frequently open 
to question. The characters of the mother and 
daughter in this tale are cleverly depicted. 
" Savoir Faire " is distinctly amusing, and shows how 
the lives of three people might have been affected if a 
lady's dressing-bag had not gone astray. It does not 
seem to be necessary to mention any other of the 
stories, as the three we refer to are fairly comprehen- 

sive, and will give the reader a tolerable inkling of 
what to e.xpect from Mr. Willoughby's latest volume. 
• • • 

The Lost Mameluke, by David M. Beddoe 
(J. M. Dent and Sons, 6s.), is a tale of Egypt at the 
time of the Napoleonic invasion. The story grips one 
from the first, and the plot is carefully thought out, and 
of real interest. For the benefit of the uninitiated 
it would perhaps be as well to explain that the Mame- 
lukes were slave soldiers who had got the upper hand 
and ruled Egypt for some centuries prior to the time 
of the story. They were very valiant and brave men, 
incomparable horsemen and swordsmen, and, under 
the sway of the Beys, governed Egypt with a hand of 
iron. The author could hardly have chosen a more 
picturesque setting for his story than this of the 
country of the Nile, and his descriptions of the 
fierce fights and battles are vivid in the extreme. 
The story concerns the fortunes of a certain Eng- 
lishman who has turned Mussulmsin, and serves 
under Murad Bey, a powerful ruler of certain pro- 
vinces, who is at continual warfare with his rival, 
Ibrahim Bey, but who always manages to keep the 
upper hand until the awakening comes and Napoleon 
and his army utterly defeat the brave Mamelukes. 
This Englisliman, Stephen Hales, has a son who is 
supposed to have been drowned at an early age, but 
who has really been stolen by a servant with a 
grudge against his master. The boy is brought up 
as a Mussulman and taught by an old Sheik, 
who hopes to train him to become a Sheik also. 
Margaret, Stephen's Christian wife, leaves her hus- 
band upon his becoming a Mussulman and goes into 
partnership with a delightful old Frenchman, Jules 
Lefebvre, who keeps a silk store. How she eventually 
finds her son, and what happens when she does, it 
would be unfair to disclose. The lost Mameluke is an 
English friend of Murad Bey, who has mysteriously 
disappeared for about fifteen years. There had been 
a terrible misunderstanding and bitter quarrel be- 
between Murad and Mustapha, who is cruelly bastina- 
doed, with the result that he becomes a cripple. In 
the character of a beggar he haunts the streets of 
Cairo, seeking an opportunity to revenge himself on 
his friend, whom he believes has wronged him. 
Radounan, the eunuch, who is the friend and confi- 
dante of Murad, eventually finds him, and the two are 

The author has the faculty of bringing vivid pictures 
before the eyes of his readers, and the whole story 
is written with a spirit and dash that is most refresh- 
ing. We trust our readers will enjoy the book as 
thoroughly as we did. 

» » • 

Breathless excitement and dramatic incident is the 
keynote of RALPH RAYMOND, by Ernest Mansfield 
(Stanley Paul and Co., 6s.). The opening chapter 
reveals the sumptuous offices of a mighty City 
magnate, into which the hero boldly thrusts himself 
with a determination that will brook no denial. He 
has a tremendous venture on hand, no less than two 
mines he has discovered in India, rich in rubies and 
gold, and he desires Lionel Roy to finance these 
undertakings. Roy takes a fancy to Raymond, 
invites him home, agrees to finance the companies — 
and introduces Ralph to his daughter Berice. The 
result is love at first sight. Raymond goes away to 
return in a few years a successful man. He takes 
Berice by storm, and is accepted. So far their love 
story runs smoothly, but tragedy is only waiting an 
(Canliuuti on f-Tge i2(>.) 

Uat s, i^ij 




By Rev. P. H. WIGKSTEED. Crown 8vo, 6s. net. 

ATHEN^UM : "Mr. Wicksteed prove* himself an admirable guide. He gives a good summary account of Aristotle's 
teaching and its varied fortunes till it conquered the schools in the middle of the thirteenth century, and received 
its final form, so far as the mediasval world was concerned, at the hands of Albert and St. Thomas. We can 
recommend it as a disinterested treatment of the scholastic philosophy of Aquinas." 


By JOHN DRINKWATER. Crown 800, 5s. net. 

MORNING POST: "From beginning to end of this delicate and charming volume passages will be found which 
will reward a reader even though he may have been familiar with his Swinburne for forty yeturs." 


A Study in Christian Origins. 
By EVELYN UNDERHILL. I2s. 6d. net. 

THE TIMES : " Miss Underbill's book is a triumph of erudition, gracefully and skilfully marshalled and attractively 



By REGINALD L. HINE. Crorvn 800, 5s. net. 

A Study of dreams in general, their significance, their dramatic, imaginative and practical value. 





1/- NET ^^^'s. 1/- NET 






Heracles ........ Scopas 

The' Blood of the Redeemer ... Giovanni Bellini 
Portrait of a Lady- .... • Goya Lucientes 

Moonrise on the Marshes of the Yare . ■ John Crome 
A Music Le'ison ...... Franli Potter 

The Holy Family > MicheluHgelo 

The MuBic Lesson (Chelsea Porcelain). 






Author of "The Wooing of Sheila," etc. 

Times. — "Full of a galloping movement that is over- 

Morning Post. — " We recommend our readers to get the 
book for themselves." 

Pall Mall. — " A very fine piece of work." 



A thrilling, vigorous narrative of Egypt in the days of the 
Mameluke ascendancy. 


or. The Fairy Gold of Fleet Street. 

By W. P. RYAN. Bs. 

Daily Chronicle. — "This is a rare book; a really dis- 
tinguished achievement." 

Daily News. — "A clever, attractive book. Mr. Ryan 
has made a genuine success in his delightful sketches of 
the subsidiary characters." 




May 9, 1913 


opportunity to step io, and now is her turn. Gerald 
Fraser, a young barrister, is deteimined to have Berice 
lumself, and he hits upon a truly diabolical method of 
riddipfj himself of two rivals at one blow. He shoots 
Captain Lennox, one of Berice's admirers, and con- 
trives that suspicion falls upon Raymond, who is 
arrested and tried, but the jury disagree. While 
Ralph is awaiting his second trial, Berice arranges his 
escape, which is safely negotiated, and Raymond is 
shipped to Australia. After a terrible experience at 
sea, he eventually lands in Australia, where he joins in 
a gold " rash." Berice meanwhile is under the im- 
pression he has been murdered at sea, and at last 
yields to the importunings of Gerald, and becomes 
engaged to him. At the last moment, however, she 
learns lier lover is alive, and he is brought back to 
England to stand his trial. What happened at the 
trial, and how tlie guilty one is brought to justice, we 
will not reveal ; but the reader need rest under no 
apprehension that he will be bored for lack of in- 
terest. Mr. Mansfield, it may be presumed, is desirous 
of affording his public entertainment, and there can 
be no possible doubt that he has amply achieved this. 
SSi 9i 9 

ZOE THE Gypsy, by. Hugh Naybard (Murray and 
Evenden, 2s. net). We must confess to disappoint- 
ment over this book. From the author's previous 
achievements we had expected better things. The book 
is purposeless and feeble, and has not even the excuse 
of being humorous. The plot is disconnected and far- 
fetched, and the characters do not live, but move 
stiffly. Zoe, who turns out to be the daughter of the 
man who appears to be in love with her, is less un- 
real than the majority of the characters, but we can- 
not say we felt a great interest in her. The account 
of the bull fight is the only part of the book which is 
tolerable reading, and that is somewhat revolting, 
though it carries more conviction than any other 
incident » 9 » 

Mr. Vincent Brown brings to his works a quality 
of detachment, a capacity for viewing men and women 
at an angle unknown to the majority. His theory of 
moral values is startling, and occasionally uncon- 
vincing. The point of view from which a person or an 
act is regarded would seem to him the vital considera- 
tion. It is not sufficient to feel compassion for a thief 
caught in the act ; the emotion roused must be one of 
poignant pity that the culprit should ever have been 
tempted, a pity that seeks to blot out all moral 
disadvantage and induces an attitude almost 
apologetic. To judge the motive of any act is to ape 
the function of a god. To blame the theft and not 
the thief is the utmost we can hope for from poor 
human nature. To go beyond this is to run the risk 
of falling into the quagmire of expediency, where the 
outlines of both right and wrong grow blurred and 
the moral sense finally becomes amorphous. Amos 
Dalyn, the preacher of Bethsaida, is permeated with 
a sense of his own deficiency and an engulfing pity 
for the world in general, and his wife in particular. 
A handsome woman of some five-and-thirty, she and 
her husband separated some short time after their 
marriage, when her charms, distinctly of the flesh, had 
begun to awaken doubts in Amos, whose dreamy and 
unpractical temperament had roused Caroline's most 
antagonistic instincts. The wife drifts into a life of self- 
indulgence, preferring the sordid shifts and debasing 
episodes of a casual existence to life witli Amos. And 
we cannot wholly blame her. A man who at times is 
unable to appreciate the difference between real life 
and dream life, whose fear of judging others drives 
him into a morbid fear of inflicting pain, is hardly a 

stimulating companion. As inevitably happens, this 
shrinking from decisive action, even in self-defence, 
encourages Caroline's egotism. She swoops down 
on Bethsaida, demands further suppUes from 
Amos' scant resources, and finally involves him 
in utter ruin and disgrace. She secures a 
valuable collection of watches from a house in the 
neighbourhood, loses her nerve, and finally hands 
them over to her husband, who wanders about the 
country with them in his pocket, quite unable to come 
to a decision as to what he shall do. We are re- 
minded of the lady sketched by George Moore in 
" Evelyn Innes," who suffered agonies when she was 
called on to make the slightest choice, and took to her 
bed worn out with the strain of deciding between 
the merits of boiled sole or fried plaice. In the 
ultimate, Amos is accused of the theft, being dis- 
covered in the grounds of the house, feebly trying 
to fijid his way. He is found guilty, and serves a 
sentence of six months' imprisonment. He comes out 
of prison, and is joined by his little girl— whom he 
has never dared publicly to acknowledge as his 
daughter. The future of Amos, we conjecture, will 
be a replica of his past. He is a person of devastating 
amiability, who carries with him the moral infection 
of weakness and intolerable pacifism. We recall with 
regret Mr. Brown's earlier methods. The splendid 
isolation of the woman in "The Magdalene's 
Husband " dwarfs into utter and abject insignificance 
the feckless creature shown to us in CONSIDER THIS 
Man (Chapman and Hall, 6s.). 


Balzac, Honors de. "Gobseck." (Oxford University Press, 3s.) 
Barnes, R. Gorell. "Out of the Blue." (Longmans, 6s.) 
Buxton, Noel. "With the Bulgarian Staff." (Smith, Elder, 

3s. 6d.) 
Chadwick, Mrs. Ellis H. "Mrs. Gaskell." (Pitman, 53.) 
Engelbach, A. H. "Anecdotes of Bench and Bar." (Grant 

Richards, 33. 6d.) 
Horsley, Canon. "How Criminals are Made and Prevented." 

(Fisher Unwin, 7s. 6d.) 
Hannah, Ian C. "The Berwick and Lothian Coasts." (Fisher 

Unwin, 6s.) 
Le Roy. "A New Philosophy, Henri Bergson." (Williams and 

Norgate, 53.) 
Rice, Cate Young. "Porzia." (Doubleday, Page and Co., 55.) 
Whitten, W. "A Londoner's London." (Methuen, 6s.) 


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Mat 9, ijij 



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■WWWWWWWW— W»!W .Wi l|ii » ! l<WMW<.WWm H HMW W— Wff» 


For Character Sketch, seepage 135. 



Mav i6, 191 3 


Portrait of Nietzsche ... ... ... ... ... ... 

History in the Making — Notes of the Week 

Canada and Canadian Policy — By Augustus Bridle.-. 
Ethics in an Age of Locomotion — By G. F. Barbour, D.Phil. 
Women ot Work. XI. — The Woman in Politics— By 

Marg.iret Hamilton ... ... ... ... ... ... 

Nietzsche — By Charles Sarolea 

Considerations Touching our Future State. Part II. — By 

Maurice Maeterlinck ... 
Masterpiece for the Week. "The Cloister and the Hearth," 

by Charles Keade — By C. Sheridan Jones 

Bluebells— By J. W. Marriott 

Spring — By Dorothy Eyre 

Liselotte : .A. German Princess at the Court of Louis XIV. 

Part 11.— By the Editor ... 

The Man with the Brain of Gold — By Alphonse Daudet 
Everyman's French Page. The Death of Napoleon— By 

Louis Adolphe Thiers 

Correspondence — 

Enterprise in Business... ... ... ... ... ... 

George Borrow ... ... 

Cobbett's " History of the Keformation" 

Conscription and the Workers 

Is the Human Brain Degenerating ? 

The Typist ... ... ... ... ... ... 

The Abolition of the Working Classes 

Pacifism and Imperialism 

Paganism and Christianity 

The Dappled Paddock 

The Use of Books to Working Men 

Books of the Week 











THE outstanding event of the week has been the 
easing of the European situation. King 
Nicolas has agreed to surrender Scutari, and 
Turkey has joined the great Powers in giving her 
assent to the draft-treaty of peace. The only re- 
maining difficulty is Greece, who naturally wishes to 
be reassured concerning the islands and the southern 
Albanian frontier. There is little doubt, however, 
that under her present competent leadership the 
matter will be settled without disturbing the present 
trend towards peace. It is safe to say that any of the 
Allies who fall out of line now will come under the 
most effective ban of Europe, and speedily be shown 
which way prudence lies. How long such moral com- 
pulsion can secure peace is another question. 

The Australian Labour party is once more demon- 
strating its Imperial sympathies and its keen interest 
in national defence. The Australian Labourite, 
while he lays all the emphasis upon industried reform 
that his profession demands, stands in sheer contrast to 
his English and Contiiiental brother in his dislike of 
theoretical Socialism, his talent for foreign affairs, and 
his broad-gauged Imperial outlook. Whatever weak- 
nesses the Fisher regime may have in the eyes of the 
Opposition — and extravagance seems to be the main 
charge brought against it by cautious Liberals — 
Tolstoyian principles and preoccupation with domestic 
affairs are not among them. National Defence has all 
along formed a very solid plank in the Labour plat- 
form, and now a scheme for the organisation of sea 
forces is well in hand, the programme including a 
number of cruisers, destroyers, and submarines, a 
supply ship, a naval college, a shipbuilding yard, and 
an aviation school. A floating dock and two naval 
ports are in process of construction, and a wireless rim 
has been carried more than half-way around the 
12,000-mile coast 

In a very interesting article on the Albanian pro- 
blem, by Chedo Miyatovich, appearing in Tuesday's 
Daily Telegraph, we are given a glimpse of Albanian 
ideals and aspirations from the inside. " The 
Albanians," says the writer, with a certain engaging 
naivete, " are not only the bravest of men, but very 
intelligent and rather gifted. They have a great sense 
of honour, and even among the wildest of them the 
women are held in sacred respect." He goes on to 
give a picture of the type of king Albania is looking 
for, " Rut the future of Albania will depend far more 
on the character and ability of her first king than on 
any written Constitution. The first King of Albania 
must be in appearance and in character a fine soldier, 
a real knight, ' sans peur et sans reproche.' The 
Albanians, a fighting race and born soldiers, would 
follow only a man who is himself a good soldier. But that 
is not all that is wanted. That Royal soldier must be 
a statesman too. He must be dignified, a bom king, 
yet at the same time quite democratic, accessible to 
every man and helpful to everybody. It is desirable 
that he should be well connected with the dynasties of 
the Great Powers, and that he should have a fair 
personal fortune. But these two last conditions are 
not absolutely indispensable. More desirable is it that 
he should be a man capable of inspiring the people 
with confidence in his devotion to their interests, and 
tlie Powers with confidence in his loyalty and honesty. 

Old London will soon be as completely submerged 
as Pompeii. Drastic changes are in the air, and every 
cpring-time rings the death-knell to a number of old 
landmarks. Fleet Street has once again fallen a 
victim to the puller-down, and this time it is the 
famous Bolt-in-tun, once a Carmehte House, but most 
of the time a tavern, and now almost the last survival 
of the old-time London coaching inn. A change of 
a different kind is likely to be brought about by the 
concentration of the thirty-two Colleges of London 
University in Bloomsburj'. This may mean the trans- 
formation of Bloomsbury into a London Quartier 
Latin — a students' paradise, with no proctors to grieve 
the sensitive soul of the undergraduate with awkward 
inquiries and irksome rules. .Some two or three thou- 
sand men and girls between the ages of eighteen and 
twenty-two are to enjoy a glorious liberty and perfect 
freedom of intercourse within this new University 
Quarter, and while some cautious Conservatives shake 
their heads over it, no trouble is anticipated by the 
enthusiastic promoters of the concentration scheme. 

During the past month several religious periodicals 
have given special prominence to the problem of the 
work of the Church in the countryside, and the point 
of general interest emerging from the discussion is 
our practical ignorance of the conditions of British 
village life. We have a number of sane and compe- 
tent investigators of the conditions of city life, but 
our practical knowledge of the conditions which 
govern life in our country districts — and these 
conditions vary considerably — is surprisingly meagre. 
What is wanted is a Charles Booth who will give us 
the life and labour of the people of the countrysides 
of Great Britain. A number of really reliable 
commissioners who would inquire with practical 
thorouglmess into the actual conditions, not only of 
the farm labourer, but of the small shopkeeper, the 
tradesman, and, in fact, of every individual who lives 
in a village community, might supply such data to 
the social reformer as would make his work a far less 
haphazard and discouraging task than it often is at 

filAT l6, 1913 




A Nation and a Navy j» j» > By Augustus Bridle 


Two political leaders unalterably opposed and 
absolutely dissimilar stand out before public expec- 
tation in that part of the Empire beginning at Prince 
Edward Island and ending at the Island of Van- 
couver. One is Right Hon. Robert Laird Borden, 
Premier of Canada since September 21st, 191 1; the 
other is Sir Wilfrid Laurier, Premier of Canada until 
that date from June, 1896. The difference between 
these two leaders, if it could be fairly determined, 
constitutes Canada's position in the Empire of to-day. 

And it was not so in 1896, when Laurier became 
Premier, nor in 1897, when Borden became leader of 
the Conservative party. Then the divergence was 
local. Now it is Imperial. And the struggle over the 
'Naval Bill in the Parliament of 1912-13 has put an 
accent on Imperial issues in Canada as no election 
and no political struggle has done since Confedera- 

In a nutshell, the struggle resolves itself into 
■ whether Canada shall contribute 35,000,000 dollars 
for a probable three " Dreadnoughts " to the Imperial 
Navy, or whether she shall spend that immediate 
amount of money in building warships in Canada, to 
be manned and maintained by Canadians. There is 
no question abcut spending the money for the pur- 
pose of naval defence. The problem is altogether as 
to the best means of doing it. 

Empire, like other vast institutions, is largely a 
series of accidents. It is something of an accident 
that the Liberal party in Canada is opposed to a con- 
tribution, and the Conservative party in favour of it. 
The reverse might have been true. In 1899 the 
Liberals senfe^ Canadian contingents to the South 
'African War — to crush a people who desired a certain 
kind of autonomy. In 191 3 Canadian Liberals, for 
the sake of their interpretation of autonomy, resist 
(the attempts of the Conservatives to pass a Bill 
Hooking to the unity and preservation of the Empire 
in a time of war. 


Are Canadian Liberals less Imperially patriotic in 

i 1913 than they were in 1900? Is Sir Wilfrid Laurier 

iless of an Imperialist now than he was when the Par- 

iliament of Canada, controlled by his party, sent 

Canadian contingents to help conquer the Boers ? 

Probably not. Sir Wilfrid, who is, as he has long 
been, the most conspicuous figure in Canadian poli- 
tical life, reiterated to the writer just a few days ago 
that he became a Liberal by reading British Consti- 
tutional history. He made the same statement in 
[I895, when leader of the Opposition. He has not 
changed — his Liberalism is of a British origin. 

But there are those who affirm that Sir Wilfrid, 
, undoubtedly always a Liberal, has never been an 
Imperialist. The present attitude of his party con- 
firms that view. Is it right — or wrong ? The answer 
is largely one of definition. 

Ar^d there is no issue that has ever been so 
mysteriously bedevilled in Canada as what people 
choose to call Imperialism. I am quite sure Sir 
Wilfrid considers himself an Imperialist. So does 
Mr. Borden. So — once in a while, at least — does 
Henri Bourassa, the brilhant Nationalist leader, who, 
at the time of the Boer War, broke with the Liberal 
party and founded Nationalism ; at the election of 

191 1 cast in his lot with the Conservatives to defeat 
Laurier ; and afterwards backed the Conservatives,!' 
largely because he and his followers disbelieved ia 
both the Naval Bill and the Laurier Canadian Navy, j 

There is but one party — if such it may be called — I 
that puts a clear accent on anything like Canadian' 
independence. That is the Nationalist party, or 
phantom, whichever you choose. They are a' 
minority of French-Canadians. And it is because' 
of the balance of power which that party held in 191 1,, 
and the probable balance that it still retains, that Mr. 
Borden has in his Cabinet a Nationalist wing, and in 
his Naval Bill no explicit declaration of a permanent 
policy respecting contributions to the British Navy. 

Such is the delicate relation between local and 
Imperial policies in Canada. 


Now, to determine the pecuhar significance of this 
struggle over the Naval Bill in the affairs of Empire, 
it must be clearly understood how each party derives 
its point of view. In all Canadian political history 
since Confederation there has never been such a con- 
test as for weeks past has raged on Parliament Hill 
between Conservatives and Liberals. Never has 
been such a deadlock. Never such a rallying of 
forces. Never such positions of no compromise on a 
question that has nothing whatever to do with tariffs, 
or trade, or immigration, or agriculture, or manufac- 
turing, or the building of railways, or any of the chief 
problems that are supposed to engage the attention 
of a young autonomous country within a vast Empire. 

The odd thing about it is that most of the political 
struggles in Canada have been over tariffs, and some 
over railways. It was a transcontinental railway 
scandal that in 1873 drove John A. Macdonald and 
the Conservatives out of office and put in Alexander 
Mackenzie. It was a tariff issue in 1878 that put Mac-i 
kenzie out and Macdonald in as the practical author 
of the National Policy, designed to build up Canadian 
industries at the comparative expense of all compet- 
ing industrialisms, including that of Great Britain. It 
was a tariff issue again in 1887, and again in 1891, 
that enabled Sir John Macdonald at one and the same 
time to oppose any form of commercial union with the 
United States, and to wave the old flag in the cause 
of a united Empire. So that the Conservative party 
from 1878 till 1 891 achieved the paradox by putting- 
the accent on both nationalism in manufactures and 
Imperialism in sentiment. 


It was the Liberal party in Canada, from the time 
of the National Policy until the return of Laurier to 
power in 1896, and for some httle time afterwards, 
that professed, not less attachment to the British con- 
nection, but more preference for freer, if not abso- 
lutely free, trade between Canada and the United 
State?. Time worked some transitions. In the first 
place it was a political accident that enabled Mac- 
donald to take up the National Policy before George 
Brown had time to reach it — when he was heading in 
that direction. It may have been less of accident and 
more of intention that caused the Liberals after 1896 
to say less about free trade and more about a reason- 
able tariff for revenue. 

And the tariff grevv steadily higher ; trade grew and 



Hat iC, igij 

population multiplied; railways were flung with pro- 
digal magnificence across unoccupied areas; national 
sentiment, such as there was, began to develop ; and, 
from being a bi-lingual country with a French root, 
Canada became a cosmop>olitan country, with most of 
the languages of Europe and some of Asia. It was 
the Conservative Government that fathered the first 
transcontinental railway, the C.P.R. — in the interests 
of Canada, the Empire, and the Conservative party. 
It was the Liberal Government that fathered the 
second, the Grand Trunk Pacific, not yet completed ; 
and fostered the third, the Canadian Northern, still 
in process of extension. 

Under the Liberals the era of the race of railways 
and the planting of peoples came to its height. With 
unparalleled advantages of great natural resources, of 
incomparable land, of an aggressive people, and an 
age of material progress in the world at large, Canada 
was able to force her way to the front among all the 
over-seas dominions, and to practise the arts of peace 
on a scale that, in ratio to population, has never been 
equalled anywhere else in the world. 


But up till 1909 it had never been profoundly neces- 
sary for a Canadian political leader to declare him- 
self emphatically on the questiorl of a navy. What 
need had Canada of a navy? What need of direct 
contributions to an Imperial navy? Relatively — 

" It ain't a navy we want," growled a lanky 
Westerner the other day on Parliament Hill ; " what 
we want is more railroads arid reciprocity. T' 'ell 
with the navy ! " 

This epigrammatic sentiment has been more blandly 
expressed by adherents of both parties in Canada, and 
it has been tacitly practised by masters of industry 
and national expansion. At the same time, the trade 
of Canada has been carried over the seas in perfect 
safety, without Canadian men-of-war or a dollar of 
direct contribution to the building of " Dreadnoughts." 
Canadian railways have been built and extended, 
steamship hnes developed, and immigration in- 
creased, much owing to the lavish borrowings of 
British capital by Canadians. Without preaching 
Empire on a basis of either sentiment or trade, Cana- 
dian expansionists, under a Liberal regime, have been 
consoHdating the ties of Empire. And it jyas good 
national business so to do. 


But it has always been a sort of unwritten axiom in 
Canada that the greatest over-seas dominion is essen- 
tially a land of agriculturists. The colossal expan- 
sion of industries and trade and population was made 
possible because of the farmer, especially in the West. 
The production of wheat has increased in a ratio that 
made it possible to coin the flamboyant phrase, 
" Granary of the Empire." This phrase has been 
lavishly and magnificently worked in Great Britain 
for the sake of booming immigration. 

At the same time, the multiplication of farmers in 
a vast area of land contiguous to a huge natural 
market made it a serious business with Canadian 
statesmen and politicians to consider the welfare of 
people whose produce was sent thousands of miles 
overland from West to East to the markets of Great 
Britain, and whose manufactured goods travel thou- 
sands of miles overland from the factories of the 
East. A measure of reciprocity began to look like a 
good stroke of business. It was the Liberals return- 
ing to their old love. 


By G. F. BARBOUR, D.Phil. 


" In thousands of years, when, seen from the distance, 
only the broad lines of the present age will still be 
visible, our wars and our revolutions will count for 
little, even supposing they are remembered at all ; but 
the steam-engine, and the procession of inventions of 
every kind that accompanied it, will perhaps be 
spoken of as we speak of the chipped stone of pre- 
historic times : it will serve to define an age." 

In these words the characteristic feature of our time 
hcis been defined by its most brilliant thinker, M. 
Bergson ; and although the idea is not unfamiliar — ■. 
some might say it is a truism — it has implications that 
are not always realised. For let us place beside it 
another truism, that moral problems are constituted 
both for individuals and for groups of men by outward 
conditions, not in themselves directly moral. We then 
see that, if the steam-engine and its electrical rivals 
and successors form the chief fact of our age, the 
proper use of these manifold inventions may well 
be its chief moral problem. And if for the present we 
confine our attention to modem inventions as a means 
of transmitting men and ideas from one part of the 
globe to another, it can hardly surprise us that the 
present ethical task of mankind is largely determined 
by the great modem increase of locomotion. 

It is true that we often speak and write (though 
perhaps not quite so often as our parents did) of the 
modern annihilation of space as being, beyond ques- 
tion or criticism, part of the general and triumphant 
progress of mankind. The wealth, both material and 
spiritual, of distant countries is brought to our doors ; 
and this commerce of things and ideas adds enor- 
mously to the interest and variety of life- — in the case, 
at least, of those who are fortunate enough to be able 
to take advantage of it. Severed friends can com^ 
municate quickly and cheaply, where before com- 
munication was almost entirely cut off; so that it is 
now possible for those whose work takes them to 
distant parts of the earth to retain many close ties with 
the homeland that they have left. All this, and much 
more, is true. But it is so habitually before our minds 
that it needs no repetition ; while it may be worth 
while to turn to the other side of the picture, not 
because we have a preference for dark colours, but 
because it is well to recognise them when they are 


In this respect there is a close analogy between 
medical and moral problems. Of all the achievements 
of civilisation, there is none of which v»e are more 
justly proud than those of medical science. Here at 
least we are sure that the science and skill of the white 
man has benefitted the whole human race. Yet even 
here there is another tale to tell ; and Sir Harry John- 
ston has lately told it in an essay which gives a ghastly 
catalogue of the diseases which the white man, in his 
passion for transporting other races as well as his own, 
has introduced mto countries and continents where 
they were previously unknown. So it appears at 
times as if the healing inventions of civilisation were 
in danger of being outstripped by those locomotive 
inventions which have so gravely increased the 
problem which medical science is set to solve. 

In the sphere of morals and customs a parallel 
process goes on. It is indeed true that ethical thought 
tends, like science, to become international, and there 

Mat i6, I)I] 



is at least the possibility that it may pass swiftly from 
land to land. But it often seems hard to bring this 
possibility into action — curiously hard, until we re- 
member how pccuhar and native to itself are the best 
customs of each people, and how slowly we adopt, 
or even understand, those of others. This fact, that 
it is always easier to copy the bad than the good 
customs of strangers, at once makes it clear why the 
mingling of races is often so dangerous morally, and 
why the meeting-points of the continents have so often 
been centres of corruption. 

So it comes about that the increase of travel, which 
follows a period of good government and peace, 
brings not only opportunities of moral enrichment (as 
when the Persian rule in the sixth century B.C. first 
brought the idealism of the East to Egypt and thence 
to Greece, or when the pax Romana opened a path 
for the advance of Christianity), but also a consider- 
able degree of danger. In the fusion of ethical stan- 
dards, there is always a possibility of their total 
collapse ; and that possibility is one which our age is 
especially called to guard against. 


But, in addition to the fusion of different races and 
ideals, we are also confronted by the instances in 
which races remain obstinately unfriendly and 
suspicious, although modern transit has brought them 
into close outward neighbourhood. Thence arises the 
"race problem," which is so widespread and in some 
lands so menacing. Europeans have penetrated 
'Africa and Asia : they have taken Africans to 
America, whither Asiatics, are now following. These 
great movements, with many minor ones, have caused 
a new intensity of racial rivalry and bitterness — a 
strange result in an age which claims to have deserted 
religious dogma in order to return to the ethic of the 

Further, it seems probable that this process of race- 
mingling will be continuous rather than intermittent. 
In the past it has proceeded spasmodically. Obscure 
causes set some warlike race in motion, impelling 
them to attack a country more favoured than their 
own. This gave rise to migration, and then followed 
conquest ; but, although the confusion and suffering so 
caused might be long drawn out, a new equilibrium 
and a new stabihty emerged. For the conquerors 
either imposed their language and customs on the con- 
quered or adopted those of the latter, and so the two 
.were gradually welded into one nation. 

But strong forces were needed to start the process. 
The Aryans who invaded India in early times, or 
the Gauls and Goths who poured down upon the lands 
around the Mediterranean, must have been driven by 
some impulse of no common strength to cross the 
mountains which barred their way to the southern 
plains. And so most migrations and conquests were 
followed by an interval long enough to allow a new 
order to emerge in the subjugated country. But 
great racial movements, once intermittent and 
attended by many difficulties, have now become out- 
wardly easy, and hence seem likely to prove con- 
tinuous. It no longer needs exceptional enterprise 
and resolution for a large body of people to move to 
a distant land. There are now no Alps to cross: 
they have been penetrated in advance by tunnels. 
Or, if the ocean be the barrier, the steamship-agent 
is everywhere, and his mission in life is to show, how it 
has been robbed of its terrors. 

Hence it seems probable that, except in those cases 
where strong legal barriers are set up against immi- 
gration, instead of the torrent-like migrations of the 

old world, fierce while they lasted, but subsiding as 
quickly as they rose, the world will in future see a 
gradual, steady inter-penetration of different peoples. 
But this more continuous, less dramatic, form of race- 
movement, while it is happily free from the grosser 
turbulence and violence of the old, has difficulties of 
its own, one or two of these we have just glanced at. 


Other branches of the same subject suggest them- 
selves. It is tempting to diverge into a discussion 
of the psychical effect of the quick movements 
and transferences of modern life. For the individual 
is affected as well as the nation, arid that though he 
never crosses the frontier of his native land. Qean 
Hcnson has said that one of the greatest difficulties of 
the modern preacher is that he can seldom keep his 
audience long enough to influence them profoundly, 
so constant are the comings and goings of our modern 
city-dwellers. But this remark is capable of a wider 
application; until we find ourselves questioning 
whether the modern gain in width and variety of 
experience is not often more than counter-balanced 
by the loss of that stability of character and 
'centrality of conviction which demands a settled 
environment for its growth. But these questionings 
all run up into the larger doubt whether we have not 
ourselves been mastered by those very instruments 
which we have evolved for the mastering of Nature. 
It may be that this is Nature's revenge on her too 
daring child, — or, if man cannot be too daring, then on 
the child who has forgotten that the secret of his true 
life lies in the supremacy of Spirit, and not merely 
of inventive intellect, over the powers of the natural 

Certain it is that, as regards a great part of civilised 
life, " things are in the saddle, and ride mankind." 
The words are truer than when Emerson wrote them ; 
and they lead us to ask whether a reaction will come, 
and a return to other ideals. Perhaps to some they 
wuU bring a longing for a science, which the Greeks 
would have named " architectonic," which should open 
our eyes to the proportions of things, and teach us the 
due — the truly human — use of our new-found control 
over the material. Such a science of life would teach 
us that man shows himself truly master of space and 
what it contains, not so much when he " annihilates " 
it by liis inventions, which may but bring him into a 
new subjection, as when he transcends its limitations 
by his power of finding significance in all places and 
all circumstances. 

But this train of thought is carrying us into cloud- 
land, whereas it was the object of this paper to remain 
on the prosaic ground of fact. The fact that man 
moves about on the surface of his planet with a speed 
and a persistence unknown in the past is both obvious 
and prosaic ; yet we have seen that it possesses a grave 
ethical significance, and that it is moulding, and will 
mould yet more decisively, our life and its tasks. So it 
is that our inventors and engineers — nay,our chauffeurs 
and airmen— have shown themselves strong enough 
to dictate the problem which moralists, educationalists 
and statesmen must strive for the next generation or 
two to answer. 


We hope to begin in our next issue a New Series of J 
special interest— " Great Cities of the World"— on 

the same lines as our parallel series, "Great Countnes oE 
the Wodd." 



Mat i«. 1913 

WOMEN AT WORK By Margaret Hamilton 


The question of women's employtiient, with its attendant problems of the rate of wages, hours of 
labour, an(l the inevitable competition with men workers, is a burning one, affecting as it does the 
welfare of the entire community. The Editor invites his readers' views on this all-important subject. 

The democratisation of politics has opened the doors 
to feminine activities, and allowed woman to play a 
prominent part in the affairs of government. From 
time immemorial she has been a factor in things poli- 
tical, a secret but determining force ; but to-day, with 
flags flying and banners spread, she has taken the 
field, and, in those departments to which she is ad- 
mitted, has shown a marked capacity for administra- 
tion and control. 

Feminine tact and tlie power of persuasion have 
always made her invaluable to Parliamentary candi- 
dates. It is an axiom that one woman canvasser is 
worth three men, and a refractory voter who has re- 
sisted the persuasions of innumerable male callers will 
yield to the blandishments of a pretty woman and 
meekly accompany her to the poll. 

The beautiful Duchess of Devonshire, who pro- 
mised the blacksmith a kiss for a vote, and won what 
appeared a hopeless contest by the bribe, has her 
modern prototype. Society women, in smart motors 
and exquisite gowns, smile at slum dwellers and go 
into ecstasies over poor little ragged babies at elec- 
tion times, however oblivious they may be of their 
existence at other seasons. But, for the most part, 
women take these things seriously nowadays, and are 
far from content to play a minor part. 

Recalling the thunders of denunciation that the sug- 
gestion of women as members of representative bodies 
have from time to time called forth, it is interesting to 
note the important part tliat tliey have played in the 
careers of some of our most famous statesmen and 
notable pohticians. Mrs. Gladstone was the confi- 
dante of her husband's ambitions, the sharer of his 
secrets, with whom he took counsel as to his most 
cherished schemes. She made it her business to shut 
out from his knowledge all household disturbances or 
domestic jars, careful to preserve his peace of mind 
and equanimity of spirit, no matter at what cost. She 
accompanied him on his political campaigns, was in- 
variably present in the Ladies' Gallery of the House 
of Commons when he made one of his important 
speeches, and was ready and waiting, serene and 
smiling, to accompany him home after a stormy 

Lady Beaconsfield, wife to the great statesman's 
rival, played as important a part in her husband's 
career as did Mrs. Gladstone. A simple woman, un- 
distinguished by brilliancy of intellect or subtlety of 
comprehension, she possessed a power of affection, a 
wealth of devotion inexpressibly sustaining to the rest- 
less temperament of her famous husband. It is told 
of her that, driving with him one night to the House 
in the days when he was known as Disraeli, the car- 
riage door was accidentally shut upon her hand, 
smashing her fingers. She endured the most terrible 
agony> but controlled herself with such courage that 
not a cry of pain broke from her lips. Disraeli was 
to make a great speech that night, and, had he learnt 
of the accident, would infallibly have been unnerved 
and unequal to the task. Not till the debate was 
over and he had scored a brilhant triumph did he learn 
what had occurred. One can imagine with what a 
wealth of gratitude and tender reproach he greeted 
her. One can conjure up the vision of her smiling 
through her tears. 

Widely divergent in character and attainment, these 
two men, giants of their generation, were alike in 
their simple, unaffected recognition of the debt 
they owed to the unselfishness and devotion of their 

One of the most touching sights of modern times 
was the spectacle of Mr. Henry Fawcett, the blind 
Postmaster-General, leaning on the arm of his wife, 
who jed him from the carriage into the House night 
after night. She acted as his secretary, and was his 
chosen confidante and counsellor. To deny a woman 
of Mrs. Fawcett's force of intellect and practical 
knowledge of affairs the right to take an active part 
in the governing of the country was an anomaly that 
the Local Government Act of 1889 was framed to 

By the provisions of this Act the County Councils 
were constituted, and, though it was designed to in- 
clude the admission of women as members, owing to 
a technical error in tlie wording of the clause, the pro- 
vision was defeated, and, though women were elected, 
they were not allowed to sit, save under the penalty 
of a heavy fine. Since that date the Act has been 
amended, and at the present moment women can sit, 
and do sit, side by side with men in the Council 
Chamber, though it is a notable fact that the number 
of female candidates is extraordinarily small. 

The Borough Councils have attracted a larger 
number of enterprising women, who have done good 
work in securing the abolition of slums and improv- 
ing the housing conditions of the poor generally. 

Women have always been eligible to serve as Poor- 
law Guardians, and some of the finest and most last- 
ing work in social reform are due to their efforts. But 
the activities of the political woman of to-day demand 
wider scope than that afforded by the patient service 
and quiet endeavour necessary to the proper perform- 
ance of the duties of a guardian of the poor ! Man is 
at times an illogical animal, and, while loudly declaim-^ 
ing that women shall not vote, contentedly permits 
her to play a considerable part in matters of local 

Women councillors are concerned .with framing 
regulations as to housing, the making of roads, the 
improvement of drainage, the licensing of music-halls, 
the administration of the Shop Hours Act, and of the 
tramway systems. They are part and parcel of the 
bodies empowered to inspect slaughter-houses, 
dairies, to check adulteration of food, and to secure 
decent conditions in public lodging-houses. Undsr 
their control are the infirmaries, the workhouses, the 
granting and withholding of small luxuries to the 
aged, the boarding out of young children. Man does 
not shrink from allowing the political woman to in- 
spect his meat, control a part of his amusements, look 
after his aged poor, or arrange for his infant dere- 
licts. She can help to decide whether or no he can 
take a tram and what he shall pay for his journey, the 
width of his roads, the elevation of his houses — the 
very hours at which he may or may not buy tlie 'baccy 
for his pipe. All these things, and more also, he 
places in her hands, but, having given her power and 
authority over him to a fuller extent than the majority 
realise, like the Bishop of Rumtyfoo, he draws the line 
'at unexpected places and refuses to give her a Parn 

Hat i6, ij^fj 



liamentary vote — having already permitted her to 
exercise local franchise. 

It is no part of the writer's aim in this article to 
argue for or against the granting of Votes for Women, 
but the fact remains that, having admitted the femi- 
nine element in constructive politics to the extent 
shown above, it is a farce to refuse the symbol of the 
power already given. 

That woman is able not only to combine but to 
subordinate individual aims to a general object has 
been shown in a striking fashion during the recent 
increase in the price of food. The women of France 
took drastic steps and put a stop to the shopkeepers' 
exaction. They formed a Consumers' League, ad- 
vanced on the markets of Paris and the principal pro- 
vincial towns, interviewed the trembling purveyors of 
edibles, and proceeded to dictate their terms. If the 
tradesman accepted their offer and abated his price 
well and good, peace was restored; if not, these 
notable and excellent housewives took a short way 
'with recalcitrants and effectively demolished their 
stalls. The whole thing was carried through with the 
neatness and dexterity for which the feminine genius 
is remarkable, and prices fell and tradesmen cowered 
before their masterly and sagacious tactics. 

It is that same quickness for detail and accuracy of 
observation that makes the political woman so success- 
ful a speaker. Less florid than the average man, 
more fluent, and free from redundancy, her criticism is 
sharp and to the point ; and though, as a rule, her point 
of view is less original than her masculine neigh- 
bour's, and the matter of her speech less provocative 
of thought, the manner of its delivery, tl.r conciseness 
of its statement, reaches a level that leaves the average 
man far behind. 

There are a number of committees in London 
concerned with the problem of the woman in industry, 
and for the pohtically ambitious there is no field where 
a better training in public speaking and the arts of 
administration and organisation is afforded. There 
are a large number of periodicals devoted to the dis- 
cussion of industrial questions, and of these the 
majority are nm by women, who have already made 
a steady advance in the political world. 

Each day finds a new organisation founded by the 
woman in politics, and having for its aims and objects 
the carrying out of a definite programme either of 
construction or destruction. And this brings me to 
the discussion of the woman mihtant, the revolutionary 
who has abandoned a constructive programme for a 
policy of demolition. 

The constitutional Suffragettes have included many 
notable women. Mrs. Fawcett for years was the 
guiding spirit of the movement, and with her were 
closely associated Lady Henry Somerset, one of the 
greatest women orators, and Lady Wynford Phillips. 
At the present moment there are twenty-one suffrage 
societies in England, and of these seven are militant 
The first societies were formed as far back as 1867, 
drawn from famihes associated with both political 
parties. Thirteen Women's .Suffrage Bills have been 
introduced in the House of Commons. Of these, 
seven have passed second reading. It is claimed that 
there had been a majority in the House of Commons 
in favour of Votes for Women since 1886, but that it 
has never become law owing to the manoeuvres of the 
various Governments in power, the Bill having been 
blocked, postponed, crowded out, and so never 
advanced beyond the stage of second reading. 

Public meetings in favour of the extension of the 
franchise rapidly increased. It is roughly estimated 
that in 191 1 these amounted to some 5,000, a number 
which was nearly doubled in 19 12. One of the most 

remarkable demonstrations ever witnessed in London 
was the procession of some 40,000 women from the 
Embankment to the Albert Hall, of all ages and con- 

The woman in pohtics uvally springs from the 
upper and middle classes. 1,/ie working woman, the 
mother of a family, the wife of a labounng man, has' 
no time to make speeches, hsten to arguments, or in- 
dulge in propaganda. Only when she is moved by 
the sense of pressing necessity for immediate action 
does she move aside from her arduous path. Witness 
the records of some of the smaller unions that have 
been organised in the teeth of the most adverse 
circumstances, and sustained only by heroic self-sacri- 
fice. These things apart, the woman worker is not 
attracted by pohtics ; a vote is to her emptied of con- 
cern. The prospect of an added shilling to Bill's 
wages is a far more vital matter. 

Whether, if the militant Suffragettes made the 
betterment of industrial conditions a plank in their 
platform, they would succeed in enlisting the help and 
enthusiasm of the woman of the working class is open 
to question. Personally, I do not think it likely. 

"God bless you, miss," said a cheery charwoman, 
the mother of five sturdy babies, and wife to a slow- 
brained but irreproachable bricklayer, " they must 
have somewhere to talk by theirselves, men must. If 
it ain't Parliament, it's the pub — same thing! They 
likes to have their say without our hearing of them, 
and so long as they bring their wages home reg'lar, let 
'em have it, I say. It don't interfere with us, and it 
amuses them — men must have somewhere to talk by 

The function of Parliament, as expressed by this 
good lady, is one held by the majority of women in the 
East End. 

" Vote ! " said an irate housewife to me, when I 
meekly solicited her help in regard to her husband, 
" no, that he shan't ! Ten year an' more we've lived 
here, and twelve year in the next street, and never 
has he done anything so disrespectable as to vote ! " 

I retired before this amazing testimony to the dis- 
reputability of pohtics, and left the lady in possession 
of the field. 

The political woman, whether in the suffrage move- 
ment or elsewhere, can generally earn a fair income if 
she be a good speaker. This, of course, does not apply 
to Councillors, but to the political free lance, who for 
a fixed sum is ready to speak with eloquence on Tariff 
Reform, Free Trade, for or against the Insurance Tax, 
or on any subject that is on the tapis, and in which 
she believes, for, and this is an important point to 
note, the woman in politics is, as a rule, uncompromis- 
ingly honest. She must speak from conviction or not 
at all, and her presence in a movement, as on the 
council of a public body, inevitably makes for purity 
and the disappearance of corruption. 

The Suffrage Societies of England are officered by 
women, and the journals connected with the associa- 
tions are edited and managed almost entirely without 
male aid. It is a tribute to the capacity and industry 
•of woman that in nearly every case these papers and 
periodicals have achieved a triumphant success, both 
from a financial and journalistic point of view. It 
remains to be seen whether the propaganda will prove 
as triumphant as their circulation. 

The vote is but the symbol of the power a public 
woman already possesses. It has yet to be decided' 
if man, who has already given her power over his 
trams, will permanently deny her access to a ticket! 
Whether or no she gains the shadow, she is already in 
possession of the substance. 

The woman in politics has come to stay ! 



Uat 16, :9i3 

NIETZSCHE ^ > ^ By Charles Sarolea 

The English reader is now in possession of a com- 
plete translation of Nietzsche, in the admirable edition 
published by T. N. Fouhs, ahd edited by Oscar Levy, 
of which the eighteenth and concluding volume has 
just appeared. To the uninitiated I would recom- 
mend as an introductory study: (i) Professor Lichten- 
berger's volume; (2) " Ludovici Nietzsche " (is., Con- 
stable), with a suggestive preface by Dr. Levy ; (3) 
the very useful summary of Mr. Miigge — an excellent 
number in an excellent series (Messrs. Jack's 
" People's Books " ; (4) Dr. Barry's chapter in the 
" Heralds of Revxilt," giving the Cdtholic point of 
view; (5) Mrs. Forster-Nietzsche : "The Young 
Nietzsche " ; and (6) An essay by the present writer, 
published as far back as 1897, and which, therefore, 
may at least claim the distinction of having been one 
of the first to draw attention in Great Britain to the 
great German writer. But a searching estimate of 
Nietzsche in English still remains to be written. And 
there is only one man that could write it, and that man 
is Mr. Gilbert K. Chesterton. I confidently prophesy 
that a study of Nietzsche, if he has the courage to 
undertake it, will be Mr. Chesterton's greatest book. 
He will find in the German heretic a foe worthy of his 


Like the history of most great thinkers, like the his- 
tory of Kant and Schopenhauer, the biography of 
Nietzsche is totally barren of incident, and can be dis- 
posed of in a few lines. Born in 1844, apparently of 
noble Polish extraction ("Nizky," in Pohsh means 
humble), the son of a clergyman, and the descendant 
on both sides of a long line of clergymen, the future 
"Anti-Christ" spent an exemplary, studious, and 
strenuous youth. After serving his time in the army 
— he was considered one of the best riders of his regi- 
ment — and after a brilliant University career at Bonn 
and Leipzig, he was appointed, at twenty-four years 
of age. Professor of Greek in the University of Bale. 
His academic activity extended over eleven years, and 
was only interrupted in 1 870 by a few months' service 
in the Ambulance Corps, during the Franco-German 

His first book, "The Birth of Tragedy," appeared 
in 1 87 1. Like most of his books, it was pubhshed at 
his own expense, and, like most of his books, it did 
not find a public. The three first parts of his master- 
piece, "Thus Spake Zarathustra," were such a 
desperate failure that Nietzsche only ventured to print 
fifty copies of the fourth and concluding part, and he 
pri!ited them merely for private circulation amongst 
his friends, but he only disposed of seven copies ! 

In 1 879 he resigned, owing to ill-health, with a pen- 
sion of £120. After his retirement he spent a nomadic 
life wandering from Nice to Venice, and from the En- 
gadine to Sicily, ever in quest of health and sunshine, 
racked by neuralgia and insomnia, still preaching in 
the desert, still plunging deeper and deeper into soli- 
tude. And as the world refused to listen to him, 
Nietzsche became more and more convinced of the 
value of his message. His last book, " Ecce Homo," 
an autobiography, contains all the premonitory symp- 
toms of the threatening tragedy. It is mainly com- 
posed of such headings as the following: — "Why I 
am so Wise," " Why I am so Clever," " Why I Write 
such Excellent Books," and " Why I am a Fatalist." 

Alas! fatality was soon to shatter the wise and 
clever man who wrote those excellent books. In 1889 
Nietzsche went mad. For eleven years he lingered 

on in private institutions and in the house of his old 
mother at Naumburg. He died in igoo, when his 
name and fame had radiated over the civilised world, 
and when the young generation in Germany was hail- 
ing him as the herald of a new age. England, as 
usually happens in the case of Continental thinkers, 
was the last European country to feel his influence ; 
but in recent years that influence has been rapidly 
gaining ground, even in England, a fact abundantly 
proved by the great and startling success of the com- 
plete edition of his works. 


Most writers on Nietzsche— and they are legion — • 
begin with extolling him as a prophet or abusing him 
as a lunatic. I submit that before we extol or abuse, 
our first duty is to understand. And we can no longer 
evade that duty. We cannot afford any longer to 
ignore or dismiss the most powerful force in Conti- 
nental literature, on the vain pretence that the author 
was mad, as if the greatest French thinker of the 
eighteenth century, Rousseau, and the greatest 
thinker of the nineteenth century, Auguste Comte, 
had not fallen victims to the same disease. 

And, on the whole, Nietzsche is not difficult to 
understand, although there has arisen a host of com- 
mentators to obscure his meaning, although Nietzsche 
himself delights in expressing himself in the form of 
cryptic and mystic aphorism, although he continuously 
contradicts himself. But apart from those difficulties, 
his message is strikingly simple and his personality 
is singularly transparent. And his message and his 
personality are one. He is a convincing illustration 
of Fichte's dictum, that any great system of philosophy 
is the outcome, not of the inteOect, but of a man's cha- 
racter. Nietzsche is not a metaphysician like Hegel, 
whom he abhorred. He is not a " logic-grinder," like 
Mill, whom he despised. He is a morahst, like the 
French, whom he loved. His culture and learning were 
French even more than German. He was steeped in 
Montaigne, to whom he has paid a glowing tribute in 
" Schopenhauer as Educationalist." He was a careful 
student of the great French classics of the seventeenth 
and eighteenth century. He read and annotated 
Guyau, with whom he had many points in common. 
By a curious coincidence, a few years before the 
advent of Nietzsche, a great French thinker had antici- 
pated every one of Nietzsche's doctrines, and had 
expressed them in one of the most striking books of 
the French language. And by an even more curious 
paradox, whilst every European critic devotes himself 
to-day to the interpretation cji Nietzsche's philosophy, 
they system.atically ignore — as Nietzsche himself 
ignored — the masterpiece of the Frenchmcin. 


Let us, then, first keep in mind that Nietzsche is not 
a metaphysician or a logician, but he is pre-eminently a 
morahst. His one aim is to revise our moral values 
and to establish new values in their place. For 
Nietzsche does both. There are two poles to his 
thought. He is an iconoclast, but he is also a hero 
worshipper. He is a herald of revolt, but he is also a 
constructive thinker. Even in his earliest work, 
" Thoughts out of Season," whilst he destroys the two 
popular idols of the day, the theologian and the his- 
torian, he sets up two new heroes, Schopenhauer and 


We have said that Nietzsche's philosophy is strik- 
ingly simple. Its whole kernel can be expressed in 

Mat i6. 1913 



two words. He is a systematic pagan, and he is an 
uncompromising aristocrat. As a pagan, he is a con- 
sistent enemy of Christianity. As an aristocrat, he is 
a bitter opponent of democracy. He proclaims that 
anti-Christ has appeared in his own person. He hails 
the advent of the Superman. 

First, he is a pagan, a pagan of Greece, or, rather, 
a pagan of the Renascence, and, as a pagan, he con- 
siders Christianity the real enemy. Christianity 
denies life ; Nietzsche asserts it. Christianity mainly 
thinks of the future world ; Nietzsche has his feet 
firmly planted on Mother Earth. Christianity glori- 
fies meekness and humility ; Nietzsche glorifies pride 
and self-assertion. Christianity defends the poor and 
the weak ; Nietzsche contends that the strong alone 
have a right to live. Christianity blesses the peace- 
makers ; Nietzsche extols the warriors. Christianity 
is the religion of human suffering ; Nietzsche is a wor- 
shipper of life and proclaims the joyful science, " die 
frohliche Wissenschaft," the " Gaya Scienza." 

It is impossible within the limits of a short article 
to discuss Nietzsche's view of Christianity. We are 
concerned here not with discussion, but with exposi- 
tion. At an early opportunity we hope to deal at some 
length in the columns of EVERYMAN with Nietzsche's 
criticism of Christianity. For the present, let it be 
sufficient to say that no theologian would be prepared 
to accept his interpretation of the Christian religion. 
The everlasting conflict of spirit against sense and 
brutal force, which is the essence of Christianity, 
is hardly conducive to passivity. It is, on the 
contrary, a consistent discipline in modern heroism. 
There is not much meekness about the Jesuits or 
the warrior Popes. Nor is there much melancholy 
about St. Francis of Assisi or St. Theresa. The 
only smihng countenance in a hospital is the Sister 
of Mercy. The only active resisters under the 
despotism of Henry VIII. were Sir Thomas More and 
a broken octogenarian priest, Cardinal Fisher. 


The same fundamental instinct or principle, the 
same defiant optimism, the same exultatibn in the 
pride of life which makes Nietzsche into an opponent 
of Christianity, also makes him into an opponent of 
democracy. The same belief in force, in the will to 
power, which makes Nietzsche into a pagan also makes 
him into an aristocrat. For the political expression 
of Christianity must needs be democracy. We are 
democrats because we are Christians, because we 
believe in the essential dignity of man. On the con- 
trary, the political outcome of paganism must needs 
be despotism and aristocracy. We believe in 
despotism and aristocracy because we believe in the 
natural inequality of man, because we believe in force 
and pride and self-assertion, in the power of the 
strong to oppress the weak. Nietzsche is against the 
oppressed and for the oppressor ; for the Superman, 
against humanity. For in Nietzsche's view an 
aristocracy is the ultimate purpose of life. 

But Nietzsche is not an aristocrat, like the ordi- 
nary Darwinian. He does not believe in the survival 
of the fittest like the typical evolutionist. He does 
not believe that a survival of the fittest will come 
about mechanically by the mere play of blind forces. 
Regression is as natural as progression. No one has 
pointed this out more convincingly than Huxley in 
his "Evolution and Ethics." The progress of the 
race is not natural, but artificial, and accidental and 
precarious. Therefore Nietzsche believes in artificial 
selection. The Superman is not born, he must be 
bred. Nietzsche is the spiritual father and forerunner 
of the Eugenists. 

And he is also the spiritual father of the Imperial- 
ists and "latter-day Militarists. The gospel of the in- 
equality of the individual implies the gospel of the 
incquahty of race. The gospel of Nietzsche has not 
only been anticipated by Mr. Joseph Chamberlain, but 
by his much more influential German namesake, Mr. 
Houston Stuart Chamberlain, the author whose books 
the Kaiser liberally distributed amongst his generals 
and advisers. The doctrine of force^ the belief in the 
German people as the salt of the earth, the self-gratifi- 
cation of the modern Teuton, can be traced directly to 
the influence of Zarathustra, and it is significant that 
the latest German exponent of Imperialism, General 
von Bernhardi, should have selected an aphorism of 
Nietzsche as the quintessence of his political philo- 

" War and courage have achieved more great things than 
the love of our neighbour. It is not your sympathy, but your 
bravery, which has hitherto saved the shipwrecked of exist- 

"* What is good? ' you ask. ' To be braced is good.'"* 

VI. . , 

Quite apart from any elements of truth contained 
in Nietzsche's Ethics, the first reason for his popu- 
larity is, no doubt, the perfection of his form and 
style. Nietzsche is one of the supreme masters of 
language, in a literature which counts very few masters 
of language, and the beauty of his style is transparent 
even in the disguise of a foreign translation. 

The second reason is that Nietzsche, who imagined 
that he was fighting against the times, was in reality 
thinking with the times, and he has met with a ready 
response, in the dominant instincts of the present age, 
in the aggressive materialism, in the race for wealth 
and power. The Supermen and the Super-races of 
to-day only too cordially accept a philosophy which 
seems to justify extortion, aggression, and oppression 
in the name of a supreme moral principle. 

The third and most important reason, and the real 
secret of Nietzsche's influence, is the fine quality of his 
moral personality. However much we may be repelled 
by the thinker, we are attracted by the magnetism of 
the man, by his noble courage, by his splendid inte- 
grity, by his love of truth, his hatred of cant. Even 
though he has himself misunderstood Christianity, he 
has done a great deal to bring us back to the funda- 
mental ideals of the Christian religion. He has done 
a great deal to undermine that superficial and " rose- 
water " view of Christianity current in official and 
academic Protestant circles. He has done a great 
deal to convince us that whatever may be the essence 
of Christianity, it has nothing in common with that 
silly and pedantic game which, for half a century, has 
made Eternal Religion depend on the conclusions of 
" Higher Criticism," and which has made theology and 
philosophy the handmaidens of archaeology and 

Nietzsche is a formidable foe of Christianity, but 
he is a magnanimous foe, who certainly brings us 
nearer to a comprehension of the inmost meaning of 
the very doctrines he attacks. And it is quite possible 
that the Christian champion of the future may incor- 
porate Nietzsche in his apologetics, even as St 
Thomas Aquinas incorporated Aristotle, even as 
Pascal incorporated Montaigne. It was in the fitness 
of things that Nietzsche should be the descendant of 
a long line of Protestant ministers. For, indeed, he 
is the last of the true German Protestants, ever ready 
to protest and to defy and to challenge. He is the 
noblest of modern German heretics. 

• Nietzsche's "Thus Spake Zarathustra," First Part, loth 



Hat. !6, tjij 


FUTURE STATE. part II. By Maurice Maeterlinck 

From his volume, "La ilorte" (Fasquellc). By permission of tJic Author 


lAs soon as man ventures too far into the regions be- 
yond the tomb, lie strikes against strange obstacles 
and breaks his wings. If we admit that our ego does 
not remain for ever what it was at the moment of our 
death, we cannot then conceive that at a given 
moment it ceases, stops all development and growth, 
reaxrhes its perfection and fullness, to be no longer 
aught but a Jcind of stray, unchangeable, in suspen- 
sion in eternity, a finite thing in the midst of what 
will never end. That were indeed the only true and 
veritable death ; and the more terrible in tliat it would 
put an end to a Ufe and mind without parallel, by the 
side of which those that we possess here on earth 
would not weigh even as much as a drop of water in 
comparison with the ocean, or a grain of sand against 
a mountain chain. In a word, either we believe that 
pur evolution will one day cease, which is an incom- 
prehensible end, and an inconceivable kind of death, 
or we admit that it will have no end, and hence, being 
infinite, it takes all the characteristics of the Infinite, 
and must be lost and merged in it. Indeed, this is 
the ultimate conclusion of theosophy, spiritualism, and 
aH religions by which man, in his supreme state of 
bliss, is absorbed into God. And this again is an in- 
comprehensible end ; but it is at least life. And then, 
weighing incomprehensible against incomprehensible, 
after doing everything humanly possible to under- 
stand one riddle or another, let us preferably choose 
the greatest and therefore the most probable, the one 
which contains all the others, and beyond which there 
is nothing left. Otherwise questions rise up again at 
every step, and fhe answers are always deferred. 
'And questions and answers lead us to the brink of 
the same inevitable abyss. Since we must arrive at 
it sooner or later, why not approach it straightway.' 
'All that happens to us in the meantime has doubtless 
its effect upon us, but it does not hold us back, since it 
is not eternal. 

So we are now brought face to face with the 
inystery of universal consciousness. 


Though we are not capable of tmderstanding the 
working of an Infinite which reflects on itself in order to 
apprehend itself, and consequently define itself and 
separate itself from other things, this is no sufiicient 
reason for declaring it an impossibility.for if we rejected 
all those realities and impossibilities which we do not 
understand there would be nothing left of what con- 
stitutes our life. If this consciousness exists under 
the form which we conceive, it is clear that we shall 
have our part and place in it. If anywhere there is 
consciousness, or some thing replacing consciousness, 
we shall exist in that consciousness or that 
thing, since we cannot be elsewhere. And since 
Ihat consciousness or thing in which we shall exist 
cainnot be in a state of misery — for it is impossible 
tiiat the Infinite exists only to cause its own misery — 

we also shall not be in a state of misery. Lastly, if 
the Infinite into which we are to be launched has no 
consciousness of any kind, nor anything to take its 
place, it must be because consciousness or its possible 
equivalent is not indispensable to eternal bliss. 


This is, roughly, I think, tiie assurance that may for 
the moment be given to the soul, anxious in view of 
the unfathomable space into which death will soon 
launch it. Accepting this assurance, it may hope for 
all that it has dreamt of, it will perhaps be less 
afraid of what it feared. If it prefers to remain in 
suspense, to admit no one c£ the hypotheses I have 
put forward, to the best of my ability and without 
partiality, it still seems difficult not to welcome at 
least the great certainty to be found at the bottom of 
each, namely, that the Infinite wishes us no ill, seeing 
that if it were to bring everlasting torment to the 
least among us it would be bringing torment to some- 
thing, it cannot separate from itself, and consequently 
to the whole of itself. 


I have added nothing to the sum of human know- 
ledge. I have onl)' attempted to separate the possibly 
true from the certainly false ; for, even if one does not 
know where truth is to be found, one still learns where 
it is not. Perhaps, moreover, in our search for this 
undiscoverable truth, our eyes will have grown accus- 
tomed, by gazing upon it, to pierce the terror of that 
last hour. There are, no doubt, many things left that 
others will say with more force and more brilliance. 
Yet let us not hope that on this earth anyone will 
pronounce the word that will put an end to our ques- 
tionings. On the contrary, it is highly probable that 
nobody in this world, nor perhaps in the world to 
come, will discover the great secret of the Universe. 
And, if we only reflect, it is well that it should be so. 

We have not only to resign ourselves to live in the 
incomprehensible, but to rejoice at the impossibility 
of getting beyond it. If there wgre no more un- 
solvable problems nor unsearchable riddles, the Infi- 
nite would not be infinite ; and then we should indeed 
have to curse bitterly that fate which set us in a 
Universe proportioned to our understanding. The 
entire existing world would be nothing more than a 
prison with no outlet, cin irreparable evil and blunder. 
The unknown and the unknowable are, and possibly 
always will be, necessary to our happiness. In any 
case, I would not wish for my worst enemy, were his 
power of thought a thousand times greater and more 
lofty than mine, that he should be condemned to 
dwell for ever in a world of which he had surprised 
one essential secret, and of which, while .still a man, 
he had begun to have some understanding. — Trans- 
lated by M. D. Honey. 

Uax iG, ml 




" The Cloister and thic Hearth," 'bv Charles Reade 

The oac great epic of that most fascinating period, 
the Middle Ages, which our language affords, " The 
Cloister and the Hearth," stands supreme as the most 
masterly achievement of Charles Reade, a novelist 
whose claims to greatness, it has always seemed to 
me, have never been fully recognised. Swinburne, 
indeed, gave the palm to that remarkable novel, 
" Griffith Gaunt " ; but then Swinburne, like other 
supreme poets, was but a poor critic (witness his dis- 
paragement of Whitman), and there can be no doubt 
whatever that the mature judgment of posterity will 
place the masterpiece we have selected this week as 
towering above all other works from the same hand. 
Reade wrote many novels ; some that were, if truth be 
told, a little dull and prosy ; many that were brilliant, 
fascinating, astonishingly clever. In one only did he 
uirpass himself and delinitely take his place among 
the immortals. This he achieved with a work that 
,3Vill last as long as our language itself, and will move 
generations unborn to laughter, to pitying tears, and 
to that thrill of breathless excitement which no one 
could rouse like he. Reade, in a word, succeeded in 
"The Cloister, and the Hearth" in performing that 
supreme miracle of literary production. He gave the 
world a work that somehow we feel was greater than 
its author. 

It was in the pages of a long defunct journal called 
Ottce a Week, and under the title of " A Good Fight," 
that the story first appeared, embellished with some 
wonderful illustrations from the pencil of Charles 
Keane. y\ccording to the legend, the circulation of 
Once a Week rose 20,000 on its appearance ; but differ- 
ences developed between Reade and the editor, who 
insisted, among other things, on the usual happy end- 
ing, and the author closed the story abruptly, with a 
pang of suppressed rage that many a lesser serial 
writer has been made to feel. There was, however, a 
special reason for Reade's anger, for the story illus- 
trated, though, as we shall see, with a curious differ- 
ence, the tragedy of his own life, and for that very 
reason he assented, with the worst grace, to the 
editorial mandate, which was as foolish from a busi- 
ness as it was impossible from an artistic point of view. 
Much time elapsed before the novel was developed 
and perfected into its present form ; but, just as the 
sixteen years that Gray spent over the Elegy were 
more than justified, so, too, was Charles Reade in 
devoting months and years of his life to a work that 
in its complete form has not a rival in the whole realm 
of our literature. 

.The writing of "The Cloister and the Hearth" 
imposed a strain on tlie author that none of his other 
works required of him, and he vowed that, once 
finished, he would never again go outside his own age 
for material. He had taken the Middle Ages, it has 
been said, not because he loved, but because he knew 
them best. Probably, however, the one followed on the 
other. In any case, there is no doubt that he saturated 
himself, not only in the literature of that elusive and 
much-misunderstood period, but he did not rest con- 
tent till he had mastered almost every phase, every 
bypath of its wonderfully \ ivid and extraordinarily 
arresting life. He captured the very spirit of the Middle 
Ages, and he made those times live for us again. To 
read "The Cloister and the Hearth" is to turn your 
hack on the twemtieth century, with its drabness, its 

imperfections, its inefficiency, its mystifying lack of 
fellowship, which permeates all classes, and to be back 
in an environment, repulsive indeed, from a thousand 
points of view, tinged, and more than tinged, with 
cruelty, lacking things that nine-tenths of us could not 
do without, but so, as one thinks, in tune with the 
soul of man, and infinitely resplendent with colour, 
with the gorgeous pageants of .State, with the crowded 
processions that thronged the roads, with the feasts 
and the fighting and the triumphs, in all of which 
the common people shared. With one swift touch 
does Reade bring them before -our eyes. Phillip, Earl 
of Holland, is entertaining all and sundry in a magni- 
ficent style the while he decides in a competition 

"for the best specimens of orfevrerie in two kinds, re- 
ligious unci secular : item, for the best paintings in white 
of egg, oils, and tempera ; these to be on panel, silk, 
or metal, as the artists chose; item, for the best trans- 
parent painting on glass ; item, for the be>t illuminating 
and border-painting on vellum: item, for the fairest 
writing on vellum. The burgomaster? of the several 
towns were commanded to aid all the poorer competitors 
by receiving their specimens, and sending them with 
due care to Rotterdam at the expense of their several 

Gerard, the hero, is a competitor, and when he goes 
to enter the gate of the courtyard he finds a young girl 
and her father, whose cousin is within, refused admis- 

'•' I am a competitor, sir,' he says. 

'■■'What is your name? ' and the man eyed him sus- 

'• ' Gerard, the son of Elias.' 

'•The janitor inspected the slip of parchment he held 
in his hand : 

"'Gerard Eliassoen can enter.' 

'•'With my comjjany, these two?' 

"'Nay, these are not your- company ; they came before 

'" W'hat matter? They are my friends, and without 
them 1 go not in.' 

'"Slav without, then..' 

'•'That 1 will not.' 

"'That we will see.' 

"'We will, and speedily.' And with this, Gerard 
raised a voice of astounding volume and power, and 
shouted so that the whole street rang : 

" ' Ho ! Philip, Earl ov Holland ! ' 

"'Are you mad? ' cried the porter. 

"' Here is oxk of your varlets defies vou.' 

"'Hush, hush!' 

'"And will not let your gltsts pass in.' 

'"Hush, murder! The Duke's there. Vva. dead,' 
cried the janitor, quaking. 

" Then suddenly trying to overpower Gerard's thunder, 
he shouted with all his lungs: 

"'Open the g.vte, ye knaves! Way there for 
Gerard Eliassoex and his compaxvI {The fiends 
go Avith him.')." 

Here we have the Middle Ages brought before us 
in a flash in all their simplicity, directness, and 
strength. Had the incident occurred to-day, of course, 
Gerard would have been powerless. He would have 
had to fill up a form, which would have been referred 
in turn to a sub-committee, who would have reported, 
say, six months later. But in those days it sufficed, as 
we have seen, for a man to lift up his voice to gain his 
just point. Democracy and the ballot-box have 
altered all that. 

There is another magnificent scene, where the two 
comrades are trapped in a mill, and on guard in the 
upper apartment against a band of robbers who are 



Mat i(, 19:3 

coming on them from below. One they kill, and 
Gerard, the artist, thus illuminates his face : 

" Of the staring eyeballs he m.ide globes of fire ; the 
teeth he left white, for so -they were more terrible; but 
the palate and tongue he tipped with fire, and made one 
lurid cavern of the red depths the chapfallen jaw re- 
vealed ; and on the brow he wrote in burning letters 
' La .Mort.' " 

The corpse they hang up, and it strikes the oncom- 
ing band with terror. 

At last Gerard reaches Rome, and persuades his 
comrade to go back to poor Margaret. Denys finds 
that she is about to be a mother, and that she has had 
no news of Gerard till he brings her her lover's letter. 
The story then rapidly develops. I have said that it 
resembles in some respects the tragedy of Reade's 
own hfe, which was that the beautiful and accom- 
plished woman, whom he loved with all his soul, and 
who lies buried with him, could not become his wife. 
Gerard's fate was that he could not marry Margaret. 
While he is away, some of his family convey false 
news to him — •that Margaret is dead. He plunges at 
once into a sea of dissipation. Recovering from that, 
he enters a monastery and becomes a monk. This is 
how he visits his wrath on the family that he has so 
loved when he learns that he has been deceived. That 
family are all waiting, as it happens, for Margciret to 
share their meal with them, when there enters: 

"A Dominican friar livid with rage. He was at 
the table in a moment, threw his tall body over the 
narrow table, and with two hands hovering over the 
shrinking heads of Cornells and Sybrandt (the two 
brothers who had deceived him), like eagles over a 
quarry, he cursed them by name, soul and body, in this 
world and the next. It was an age eloquent in curses ; 
and this curse was so full, so minute, so blighting, 
blasting, withering, and tremendous, that I am afraid 
to put all the words on paper. 'Cursed be the lips,' he 
shrieked, ' which spoke the lie that Margaret was dead ; 
may they rot before the grave and kiss white hot iron in 
hell thereafter ; doubly cursed be the hands that changed 
those letters, and be they struck off by the hangman's 
knife and handle hell fire for ever; thrice accursed be 
the cruel hearts that did conceive that damned lie, to 
part true love for ever ; may they sicken and wither on 
earth, joyless, loveless, hopeless; and wither to dust 
before their time; and burn in eternal fire.' He cursed 
the meat at their mouths, and every atom of their 
bodies, from their hair to the sole of their feet. Then, 
turning from the cowering, shuddering pair, he tore a 
letter out of his bosom and flung it down before his 

Gerard lives on to forgive the two evil brothers who 
had altered the letter, and to know his httle son, that 
son who became the great Erasmus ; he became him- 
self a great force and a mighty orator in the Church, 
and saw poor Margaret grow to know something like 
resignation. Gerard performed the last offices of the 
Church over her when she died. It is a dreadful 
story, one of the most poignant that has ever been 
penned, and in nothing more masterly than that the 
author makes both hero and heroine live on and 
achieve, maimed creatures though they are. 

But I think the most consummate touch of pathos 
in the work is the fate that overtakes, not Gerard, but 
anotlier. The two evil brothers, who ruined his life, 
always counted on getting the old people's hoard of 
savings when they died. But the old mother, who 
had nursed them in their first sleep, tends them in their 
last, and follows them to the grave. She hves on 
beyond all her children, to nurse and tend the grand- 
children that come after, and, in the exacting daily 
service that is the lot of woman, she lives to forget 
much, so that her darhng Gerard and his tragic story 
;is as something that has never been. 

C. Sheridan Jones. 


A CVRPET of wonderful blue-mauve has been laid in 
woodland and coppice — a faery haze that mocks one 
with a sense of unreality. Everyone must have seen 
it with a sense of delight and enchantment, for the 
aerial colour and the dreamy, intoxicating scent of 
wild hyacinths arrest one like a miracle. We re- 
member once sailing round Carlingford Loch, and at 
the foot of the Mourne Mountains we saw the distant 
bluebells as a rich mist. On approaching we witnessed 
one of the loveliest pictures imaginable by an artist 
mind — stretches and stretches of bluebells under the 
tall trees and in the mountain shadows ; and, since the 
green was above the blue, we got a curious impres- 
sion of a topsy-turvy world, where the sky was down 
instead of up. At our very feet the bluebells spraing 
in myriads, and wandered on in countless multitudes, 
rising and falling v<ith every undulation, lifting sud- 
denly in a bank of mauve mist, and farther away 
breaking through an undergrowth — a bewitching 
glimpse of colour, impalpable and entrancing. 

Yet our artists and poets have strangely neglected 
this beauty of the bluebell. It is true that Ruskin 
praised the garden hyacinth and advised a man to sell 
his coat to buy one. The Autocrat of the Breakfast 
Table also proclaimed the blue hyacinth as his 
favourite flower. But there is one great feature of 
wild hyacinths which their cultured sisters have lost 
altogether — a wonderful quality which belongs to no; 
other flower. For bluebells are spoilt by being 
gathered. Children by the roadside offer us bunched 
handfuls for a copper, but all their charm has gone. 
People thus taking the flowers cii masse (and generally 
cramming them into a jam-jar) destroy at once the aery 
impression, and one gets instead a solid and substan- 
tial colour from which all enchantment has fled. 
Placed loosely and carelessly in a tapering vase, ond 
gets the effect of emerald and sapphire in a fountain 
of gems. But the real ecstasy of bluebells as they 
grow in the woods is precisely that feeling of hazy un- 
reality, of misty dreams. There is a suggestion of 
rapid, swirling movement, a mazy motion ; it gives one 
a sense of dancing, of a flower waltz. No other flower, 
wild or cultivated, possesses this sensation of glamour, 
of unsubstantiality, of dizzy speed. It is like a fairy 
ballroom. But to seize and bunch the flowers 
together is to rob them of this exquisite and luxurious 

Whilst watching their dreamy waltzing beneath the 
forest trees one can imagine he hears the subtle 
chimes of innumerable peals of bells — sweet, high- 
pitched polyphonic music, lighter than the thinnest 
spray and rhythmic with the cadences of the dance. 

J. W. Marriott. 

j» j» jt 


Last evening we gathered hawthorn — the first of the 

It was beautiful tcfind its delicate, white, clustered 
masses ; while its fragrance floated around on the 
wings of dreams, so subtle, so alluring. 

We found violets, too, pale, divinely tinted, modest 
little faces hidden deftly among the willow and star- 
grass, eluding- all but the determined seekers. 

The winter has been so dark and dreary ; the hedges 
seemed so long in wakening to the vibrant touch of 
Spring. But now it is here — they are all smiling 
beneath the sun's warmth, and the cuckoo's cry, faint 
and sweetly persistent, sounds musically across the 
sandhills, and I love it all so much. 


Mat i5, 1)13 




By the Editor. 

A German Princess at the Court of Louis XIV. 



With characteristic outspokenness, "Madame" 
admits that "Monsieur" was sorely disappointed on 
first meeting her. He expected a plain bride, but the 
reality exceeded his anticipations. "When I reached 
St. Germain, I felt as if I had dropped from the sky. 
I put on as pleasant a face as I possibly could. I saw- 
full well that I did not please My Lord and Master, but 
there was no witchery in that, considering how ugly I 
am. So I took the resolution to live with him so 
amicably that he would get accustomed to my ugliness, 
and put up with me, which, in fact, is what actually 

However, the first years of the marriage were not 
unhappy. "Monsieur," if not affectionate, was deferen- 
tial. "dMadame " was sensible, and indulged her hus- 
band's weaknesses. Both agreed to differ. "Madame" 
received many a pleasant visit from her friends and 
relatives in Germany. Both- her brother, Charles Louis, 
and her beloved aunt, Sophia of Hanover, came to \'er- 
sailles, witnessed Liselotte's growing favour, and 
basked in her popularity. The birth of three children 
proved a firm bond between a couple who otherwise had 
nothing in common. 


After about six years of married life, relations became 
gradually strained. But even then "Madame" found 
ample compensation in the friendship of the King. 
Louis found pleasure in the sallies of his sister-in-law. 
He appreciated her outspokenness, her sound judg- 
ment and common sense. He relished her quaint 
language and her strong German accent. He delighted 
in taking her out hunting, In making her his confidential 
adviser. On the other hand, "Madame " felt unbounded 
admiration for his Majesty. If we are to believe the 
gossip of the Court, as we find it retailed in the Memoirs 
of the times, in the "Correspondence" of Mme. de 
S6vigne, and if we read between the lines of 
"Madame's" Letters, she very soon got to feel some- 
thing more than friendship and admiration for Louis. 
It was the King who had fallen in love with the first 
Duchess of Orleans : now it was the second Duchess 
who fell in love with the King. There is at least this 
advantage in Mme. de Sevigne's version, endorsed as 
it is by the most recent biographer of Liselotte, Mme. 
Arvede Barine, that, if we accept her view, it becomes 
much easier to understand the unbounded hatred which 
Liselotte came to feel for Mme. de Maintenon. Tiiat 
hatred was not due to an^ incompatibility of tempera- 
ment, or to wounded vanity, rather did it originate in 
female jealousy. The "Widow Scarron," the " Sultana," 
the "witch," had ousted Liselotte from the affections of 
King Louis. 


After the birth of her daughter, in September, 1676, 
a complete change took place in the relations of 
"Madame," both to her husband and to her brother-in- 
law. "Monsieur" fell more and more under the in- 
fluence of his minions, and subjected his wife to petty 
humiliations. The King ceased to pay her attentions. 
He ceased to take out his sister-in-law for drives to 
Marly and hunting parties in the forest of 

Uiselotte attributes the change to the intrigues of 
the minions and of the odious "Sultana." The truth 
is that the cause of the estrangement lay much deeper 
than mere personal machinations. 

In the first place, there were the racial differences 
between the French character and the character of 
Liselotte, which was thoroughly German. L'nlike most 
Germans, who so easily merge their national peculiari- 

ties, she refused to be assimilated, to adapt herself to 
the atmosphere of the Court. She retained her idio- 
syncrasies. With truly German tactlessness and indis- 
cretion, she criticised every French custom and institu- 
tion. Irrtbued with an overweening pride of birth, sh< 
insisted on her prerogatives. She was intractable ir 
matters of etiquette. She proclaimed the superiority 
of the ancient German nobility over the upstart Frenqlt 
"Noblesse." She even claimed superiority for German 
sausages and German sauerkraut over the refinements 
of the French cuisine. She was merciless in her judg- 
ments of the leading personages at Court, and, as her 
letters were periodically opened by the post and copied 
in the "Black Cabinet," she made herself, in a very 
short time, countless enemies. 

Nor must we forget the fatal effect produced by her 
outspokenness in matters of religion. " Madame " w-as 
a most liberal Christian, and almost a freethinker. She 
had remained at heart a Protestant, and her religious 
heresies gave all the more offence and scandal, because 
since the King's illness and operation the French Court 
had become more and more devout and more and more 
orthodox. Louis was already preparing for the 
systematic expulsion of the Protestant element. 


L'ntil the end of her life she remained convinced that 
it was Mme. de Maintenon who was, above all, respon- 
sible for her estrangement from the King. Her abhor- 
rence for the Sultana, of the "witch," became a fixed 
idea and obsession. Every trait of her character, 
every strong feeling and passion combined to inspire 
her with an ineradicable repulsion. The reserve and 
discreet manner of the favourite was abhorrent to her 
impulsive and outspoken disposition. Her pride of 
birth despised the upstart governess and the widow of 
a low-class poet and jester. But above all her jealousy 
could not forgive Madame de Maintenon for having 
alienated from her the one man she loved and admired. 

When we read to-day the " Correspondence " of 
Liselotte, we receive the impression that "Madame" 
had only herself to blame, and that Mme. de Maintenon 
was more sinned against than sinning. It was natural 
enough that "Madame " should impute the responsibility 
of all her grievances to the "Widow Scarron." Mme. 
de Maintenon was supposed to be omnipotent, and there- 
fore it was almost inevitable that she should be made 
answerable for everything that happened. No doubt 
the morganatic wife of Louis could not feel any sym- 
pathy for the proud German. It would have been too 
much to expect of her, that she should requite the 
implacable hatred of " Madame " with kind offices of 
friendship. But we have no reason to suppose that 
Mme. de Maintenon went out of her way to do any 
disservice to the King's sister-in-law. The hatred was 
all on one side. Secure in the love of the King, Mme, 
de Maintenon could afford to despise and ignore th« 
passionate outbursts of her implacable and impotent 
German enemy. 


Humiliated and persecuted by her husband, estranged 
by the King, Liselotte found little consolation in her 
children. She might have derived some satisfaction 
from her only daughter, who was dutiful and affec- 
tionate, but at eighteen years of age she was married 
to the Duke of Lorraine, and was lost to her mother. 
The tyranny of etiquette made it impossible for the one 
to visit the other, except on conditions which were in< 
acceptable to the King's Majesty. 

Her only son, the famous and infamous Regent-thaf< 
was-to-be, although clever, kind-hearted and respectfulj 



Mat t6, 1913 


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^s as something tHai 

grew up to be as vicious, in another way, as his dc- 
praveci father. Before he was twenty the corruption of 
a perverse Court had tainted him to the marrow. But 
what grieved her even more than the misconduct of the 
Duke de Chartres was the misalliance which he was 
prevailed upon to enter into with Mile, de Blois. That : 
the great-grandson of a King of England and the ' 
grandson of a King of France should agree to marry the 
bastard daughter of Mme. de Montespan was the 
crowning humiliation which embittered the remainder 
of her days. 


In 1699 "Monsieur" suddenly died of apoplexy, 
after a violent fit of anger with his Royal brother, fol- 
lowed by a too copious dinner. "Monsieur " had always 
overtaxed his truly Royal stomach, which was as 
characteristic of the Bourbons as the eagle nose, and 
he fell a victim to his intemperance. The death of her 
husband reduced Liselotte more than ever to the mercy 
of Louis. The King, as always, proved generous. 
Liselotte retained most of the pensions which had been 
granted to the Duke of Orleans, and as her income was 
henceforth at her own disposal, instead of being 
squandered on her husband's favourites, she was now 
much better off than in the lifetime of her lord and 

But it was one of the conditions of the King's favours 
that " Madame " should make peace with Mme. de 
Maintenon. The proud German Princess had to 
humiliate herself before the ex-governess. The vindic- 
tive woman had to forget and to forgive. The out- 
spoken and impulsive character had to dissemble and to 
restrain her outbursts of temper. The scene of recon- 
ciliation, which has been graphically described by Saint 
Simon, took place with a liberal display of goodwill on 
the part of Mme. de Maintenon, and, on the part of 
Liselotte, with abundant outbursts of repentance and 
promises for the future. But the reconciliation proved 
only superficial and ephemeral. Outward forms were 
observed, but the hatred was more unrelenting than 
ever, having gathered strength from the public 


One may wonder, with her biographers, why Liselotte, 
on the death of "Monsieur," did not retire to Germany, 
or, as had been provided in her marriage contract, why 
she did not take advantage of the seclusion and peace 
of a convent, the favourite retreat and refuge of Royal 
widows in those religious times. But various reasons 
made her prefer the solitude of Versailles and St. Cloud. 
Although not a tender mother, it is possible that she 
did not want to part from her only son. Moreover, to 
a heretic like Liselotte, the atmosphere of a convent was 
uncongenial. Nor did she possess the financial means 
to keep up her position in Germany, and she was too 
proud to accept a subordinate place in her native 
country, after having occupied an exalted position in 
France. And, finally, she hoped for an imminent 
change which might bring deliverance from the odious 
tyranny of the ".Sultana." So many ladies had 
possessed in turn the fickle heart of Louis. Why should 
not a new favourite arise and take the place of the 
"Widow Scarron "? Or why should she not herself be 
restored to the Royal friendship? And thus did pride 
and prejudice, maternal love and human illusion com- 
bine to detain her in France, and thus, until the end 
of her days, she continued to occupy with her dogs her 
private apartments at Versailles and her palace at St. ■ 


For fifteen years she had to wait for the great King 
to disappear from a scene which he had filled for seventy- 
two years, having ruled longer than any sovereign of 
modern times ! When the change did come it was too 
late. No doubt she breathed more freely when her 
detested rival returned to St. Cyr, and took up once 
more her natural vocation as a governess, after having 

May t6. lait 



been for thirty years the uncrowned Queen of France. 
But Lisclotte sincerely regretted the old King. He had 
been kind to her in her youth, and she had never ceased 
to love him. Her son had now become Regent of 
France, and she herself was now the first lady in the 
realm. And she would have been more than woman if 
her vanity had not been flattered under the changed 
circumstances. On the other hand, she less than ever 
approved of the ways of her family. Her son was 
addicted to women and gambling. Her grand- 
daughter, the Duchess of Berry, astonished even a 
corrupt Court with her continuous scandals. Of real 
political influence Liselotte had none. The Regent, 
rather than listen to the counsels of his mother, pre- 
ferred to follow the advice of the infamous Cardinal 
du Bois, or of the upstart Edinburgh financier and 
adventurer, John Law, of Lauriston, who, with his 
Mississippi schemes, eventually ruined half the nobility 
of Versailles, and turned Paris into a gambling den. 

And even if Liselotte, after her long years of con- 
straint and humiliation, had been disposed to rejoice in 
her new position, her capacity of enjoyment was rapidly 
giving way at the approach of age and illness. Her 
health had been excellent as long as she had been able 
to take exercise, but during the last years of Louis' 
reign disfavour and seclusion, as well as the tyranny of 
etiquette, had condemned her more and more to a 
sedentary existence. Her form, which had always been 
ample, now became every day more massive and un- 
wieldy, and made motion increasingly difficult. _ Her 
intellect had lost none of its keenness and activity. 
Under the freer atmosphere of the Regency, she in- 
dulged to the full her natural bent for moralising and 
speculating. She corresponded -with the greatest 
philosopher of the age, Leibnitz, and with the rising 
generation of German tliinkers. Whilst Louis XIV. 
had become more and more devout with advancing age 
and increasing infirmities, Liselotte became more and 
more a freethinker, and railed more and more against 
superstition and sacerdotal tyranny. - Her undaunted 
spirit saw the approach of death without terror. Until 
the end she plied her incisive pen, and continued to 
entertain her German friends with her interminable 
epistles. She died at seventy years of age, only pre- 
ceding her son, the Regent, by one year. She had 
spent exactly half a century in France. Since she left 
Heidelberg, in 1672, she had never seen again the 
smiling hills and vineyards of her native country that 
she loved so well. 


Ht is one of the objects of Evekyjian, expressed in the sub-title 
of the paper, to get at the facts of national life. We speak glibly 
of the classes and the masses, lumping them together as if they 
■were abstract entities ; but we know very little of the concrete 
conditions of life of those classes and those masses. One of the 
most urgent desiderata of social science is an accurate knowledge 
of those conditions, with their infinite variations in time and 
space, according to professions and surroundings. 

With a view to furthering such knowledge, we offer a prize 
of Three Guineas each for the best contribution, not exceeding words, on any on» of the six following subjects : — 

1. The Civil Servant. 4. The Male Teacher, 

2. The Anglican ClerjSyman. 5. The Compositor. 

3. The Foreign Missionary. 6. The Miner. 

The papers should be descriptive rather than controversial, and 
we would recommend a division into paragraphs, with a view 
to inducing orderly sequence. We would also recommend a brief 
synopsis summing up the main points dealt with. It is desirable 
that the competitions be written from direct observation. The 
experience of a miner will be more welcome than a contribution 
by a politician who once in his life visited a coal-mine. 

Entries shotild be clearly written, aild preferably typewritten, 
should bear the number of the Competition, and should reach 

*^^ Competition Editoi, "Everyman," 

21, Royal Terrace, 


by July ist. Other subjects will be announced later on. 

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Hit l6, 19I] 


By Alphonse Daudet 

There was once a man who had a brain of gold ; yes, 
a brain all of gold. When he came into the world 
the doctors thought the child would not live, so heavy 
was his head and so huge his skull. He sur\ived, 
however, and flourished in the sun like a beautiful 
olive-tree : only his great head always embarrassed 
him. And it was pitiable to see him, when walking, 
knock his head against the furniture. 

He often tumbled. One day he fell from the top 
of a flight of steps and knocked his forehead against 
one of them, which was of marble, when his cranium 
clanged hke metal. 

It was thought that he was dead, but on lifting him 
up only a shght wound was found, and surrounding it 
were two or three specks of gold clotted in his fair 
hair. It was thus that his parents learnt that the child 
had a golden brain. 

The thing was kept secret, the poor little chap him- 
self suspectmg nothing. From time to time he would 
ask why he was not allowed to play with the boys in 
the street. 

"You would be stolen, my beautiful treasure," 
replied the mother. At that time the little chap was 
very much afraid of the idea of being stolen ; and so, 
without saying anything, he returned to play by him- 
self, trailing himself sadly from one room to another. 

At the early age of eighteen his parents revealed 
to him the monstrous gift which destiny had bestowed 
upon him ; and as they had brought him up, and 
nourished him up to that time, they demanded of him 
a little of his golcJ. 

The youth did not hesitate. In that same hour — 
how, by what means, the legend does not tell — he 
extracted from his skull a nugget of gold, a piece as 
big as a walnut. This he fiercely flung on his mother's 
lap ; then, dazzled by the riches which he carried in 
his head, befooled by desires, drunk with his power, 
he quitted the paternal roof, and went away into the 
world, squandering his treasure. 

From the way in which he lived his life, royally, 
scattering his gold without counting it, one might have 
thought that his brain was inexhaustible. In reality, 
it was becoming used up, and in proportion one could 
see his eyes grow dim and his cheeks become hollow. 

At last, one day on the morning after a foolish 
debauch, the unhappy man found himself alone among 
the debris of the feast as the lights were waxing pale. 
It was then that he discovered the enormous inroad 
he had already made in his treasure. From that day 
his was a new existence. The man with the golden 
brain went away to live in retirement by the work of 
his hands. He became suspicious and fearful as a 
miser, fleeing temptation, and trying to forget the fatal 
riches which he no longer wished to touch. 

Poor creature! A friend had followed him into 
solitude, and this friend knew his secret. One night 
the unfortunate man was awakened out of his sleep 
by a pain in his head, a frightful pain. 

He dressed himself distractedly, and saw, by the 
rays of the moon, the friend who, in running away, 
was hiding something under his cloak. One more 
piece of brain was being filched from him. 

Some time after, the man with the brain of gold fell 
in love. And this time all was lost; He loved from 
the bottom of his soul a httle blonde, who loved him 

too, but who also loved ornaments, white plumes, and 
smart shoes bedecked with dainty bows. In the hands 
of this darling creature — half-bird, half-doll — his gold 
pieces stood for all that was pleasurable. She had a 
thousand caprices, and he could not say no to her. For 
fear of giving her pain, he hid from her, even to the 
end, the sad secret of his fortune. 

" We are very rich ! " she would say. 

The poor man would reply, " Ah, yes, very rich ! " 
and he would laugh lovingly at the little blue bird that 
was innocently pecking at nis brain. 

Sometimes, however, fear held him, when he 
resolved to economise. But then the little woman 
would come running to him and say, " My husband, 
my very rich husband, buy me something beautiful — 
and very expensive." And he would buy her some- 
thing beautiful and very expensive. 

This lasted for two years ; then one morning the 
little woman died — no one knew why — like a bird. 
The treasure was coming to an end. With that which 
remained to him the widower thought he would pro- 
vide his beloved with a beautiful funeral. There 
should be tolling of bells, heavy coaches draped with 
black, horses adorned with plumes : nothing now 
appeared to him too costly. What mattered his gold 
to him now! He gave of it to the Church, to the 
bearers, to the dealers in artificial flowers. He gave 
it everywhere without bargaining, so that on leaving 
the cemetery there remained to him almost nothing 
of his marvellous brain — in fact, only a few grains 
clinging to the walls of his skull. 

He was seen walking the streets with an abstracted 
air, his hands before him, stumbhng like a drunken 
man. That evening, when the shops were lighted up, 
he stopped before a large shop-window, in which a 
medley of dresses and of finery was displayed in the 
light, and stayed for a long time looking at a pair of 
blue satin shoes, trimmed with swan's-down. 

" I know someone whom these shoes will please," 
he smilingly remarked, remembering no longer that 
the little woman was dead. 

He entered for the purpose of buying them. From 
the back of her shop the shopkeeper heard a bittar 
cry, and ran forward, but drew back in fear upon 
seeing a man leaning against the counter, regarding it 
dolefully, with a stupefied air. He held in one hand 
the blue shoes bordered with swan's-down, and pre- 
sented tlie other, all bloody, but with scrapings of gold 
clinging to the nails. This is the legend of the man 
with the brain of gold. 


The Editor of Evekyman offers a prize of Two 
Guineas for the Best Essay on " The Working of 
the Medical Insurance Act : Criticisms and Sug- 
gestions," the essay not to exceed i,8co words. All 
entries for this competition should be addressed to the 

Competition Editor, 

31, Royal Terrace, 


' and must reach Iiim not later than June ist. It is 
recommended tliat the essays be typewritten. 

Hat i(, 1913 




By Louis Adolphe Thiers 

La Mort de Napoleon. 
Enfin s'ouvrit cette annee 1821, qui devait etre pour 
Napoleon la derni^re de sa grande existence. Au 
commencement de Janvier il eprouva une amelioration 
de quelques jours, mais qui ne se soutint pas. " C'est 
un repit d'une semaine ou deux, dit-il, apres quoi la 
maladie reprendra son cours." 

II dicta encore a Marchand quelques pages sur 
Cesar, et ce furent les dernieres. A peu pres a cette 
^poque on apprit par les journaux la mort de sa soeur 
Elisa. II y fut trcs-sensible. C'etait la premiere per- 
sonne de sa famille qui mourait depuis qu'il avait 
I'age de raison. " Allans, dit-il, die me montre le 
chemin ; il faiit la suivre'' Bientot les symptomes 
qui s'^taient deja produits reparurent avec toute leur 
force. Napoleon avait le teint livide, le regard tou- 
jours puissant, mais les yeux caves, les jambes enflees, 
les extremites froides, I'estomac d'une susceptibilite 
telle qu'il rejetait tous les aliments avec accompagne- 
ment de- matieres noiratres. Le mois de fevrier 
s'ecoula ainsi sans aucune amelioration, et en ame- 
nant au contraire des symptomes plus graves. Ne 
digerant aucun aliment, I'auguste malade s'affaiblis- 
sait chaque jour. Une soif ardente commenqait a le 
tourmenter; son pouls si lent s'animait et devenait 
fievreux. II aurait voulu de I'air, et il ne pouvait en 
supporter I'impression. La lumiere le fatiguait ; il ne 
quittait plus les deux petites chambres ou etaient 
tendus ses deux lits de campagne, et se faisait 
transporter de I'un a I'autre. II ne dictait plus, mais 
il se faisait lire Homere et les guerres d'Annibal dans 
Tite-Live, ne pouvant se les faire lire dans Lolybe 
qu'il u'avait pu se procurer. 

Le mois de mars amena un etat plus grave encore, 
et le 1 7, desirant respirer librement, il se fit mettre en 
voiture, mais a peine en plein air il faillit s'evanouir, et 
fut replace dans le lit ou il devait expirer. " Je ne suis 
plus, dit-il, ce fier Napoleon que le monde a tant vu a 
cheval. Les monarques qui me persecutent peuvent 
se rassurer, je leur rendrai bientot la securite." . . . 
Les fideles serviteurs de Napoleon ne le quittaient 
pas. Marchand et Montholon veillaient jour et nuit a 
son chevet, et il leur en temoignait une extreme grati- 
tude. Le grand marechal demandant pour sa femme 
la permission de le visiter : " Je ne suis pas bon a voir, 
avait-il repondu. Je recevrai madame Bertrand quand 
je serai mieux. Dites-lui que je la remercie du devoue- 
ment qui I'a retenue six annees dans ce desert." 

II etait ainsi arrive aux derniers jours d'avril, 
n'ayant aucune esperance, n'en cherchant aucune, et 
regardant sa fin comme tres-prochaine. II resolut 
alors de faire son testament. 

i i • • • > 

II consacra plusieurs jours a arreter ces dispositions, 
puis a les ecrire, et s'interrompit a diverses reprises, 
vaincu par la fatigue et les souffrances. Enfin il en 
vint a bout, et, fidele a son esprit d'ordre, il fit rediger 
un proces verbal de la remise a ses executeurs testa- 
mentaires de son testament et de tout ce qu'il posse- 
dait, afin qu'aucune contestation ne put s'elever apres 
sa mort. II recommanda qu'on observat ti ses 
funerairies les rites du culte catholique, et que sa salle 
a manger, dans laquelle on lui disait la messe, fiit con- 
verge en chapelle ardente. Le docteur Antomarchi, 
ecoutant ces prescriptions adressees a I'abbe Vignale, 
ne put se defendre d'un sourire. Napoleon trouva 
que c'etait manqucr de respect a son autorite, a son 
genie, a sa mort. " Jeune homme, lui dit-il d'un ton 

severe, vous avez peut-etre trop d'esprit pour croire en 
Dieu : je n'en suis pas Ik. . . . N'est pas aihk qui veut" 
Cette leqon severe donnee en des tcrmes dignes du 
grand homme expirant, remplit d'embarras le jeune 
medecin, qui se confondit en excuses, et fit profession 
des croyances morales les plus saines. 

The Death of Napoleon. 
The year 1821 came at last, that year that was to 
terminate the wondrous career of Napoleon. At the 
commencement of January his health improved, but 
only for a few days. " It is a respite," he said, " of a ' 
week or two, and then the disease will resume its 

He then dictated a few pages touching Cajsar to 
Marchand ; they were the last he wrote. About the 
same time he saw the death of his sister Eliza 
announced in the papers. It pained him deeply. She 
was the first person of his family that had died since 
he had attained the use of reason. " .She has shown 
me the way," he said ; " I must follow." The symp- 
toms of his disease returned now with greater violence 
than ever. Nap>oleon's complexion became livid, his 
glance was expressive of as much power as ever, but 
his eyes were sunken, his legs swelled, his extremities 
became cold, and his stomach rejected every species 
of food, and these ejections were accompaniqd by a 
discharge of blackish matter. February brought no 
other change thail an increased intensity of the symp- 
toms. Not being able to digest any food, the august 
invalid became weaker every day. He was tormented 
by intense thirst, and his pulse, once so slow, beat with 
feverish rapidity. He wished for air, though he could 
not endure it when admitted. The light pained him, 
and he now never left his rooms, in which were his two 
camp-beds, being removed occasionally from one to 
the other. He did not dictate any more, but had 
Homer read to him, and the account of Hannibal's 
war in Livy, not having been able to procure Polybius. 

His health became still worse in March, and on the 
17th, thinldng that during a short drive he could 
breathe more freely, he was put into a carriage ; but 
when brought into the air he very nearly fainted, and 
was borne back to the bed in which he was to die. " I 
am no longer," he said, " that proud Napoleon whom 
the world has so often seen on horseback. The 
monarchs who persecute me may set their minds at 
rest ; I shall soon remove every cause of fear." 
Napoleon's faithful servants never left him. Mont- 
holon and Marchand remained day and night by his 
bedside, an attention for which he showed himself 
profoundly grateful. The great marshal asking 
permission for his wife to visit him ; " I am not fit to be 
seen," he said ; " I shall receive Madame Bertrand 
when I am better. Tell her that I thank her for the 
devotion that has kept her for six years in this 

Having now reached the last days of April witliout 
any renewal of hope, or wishing for it, and considering 
his end as very near, he determined to make his will. 

• -. SI I I 

Napoleon devoted several days to making these 
arrangements and committing them to writing. His 
labour suffered frequent interruptions from pain and 
weariness. All was arranged at length, and, with his 
usual love of order, he had a legal document drawn up 
of the transfer of his will, and all that he possessed^ 



Mat 16. 1913 

Mr. Hdnemann's New Books 

2nd Edition brought up to date. 


By E. ASHMEAD-BARTLETT. Illustrated. Map. 
Royal 8vo. 10s. net. 


A. FILON. Royal 8vo. With numerous Portraits and 
Illustrations. 15s. net. 

By JOHN MASEFIELD. 3s. 6d. net. 




LANGER. Introduction by W. L. COURTNEY. 5«.net. 


(The NO). By M. C. STOPES. D.Sc, Ph.D. With trans- 
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Japanese Ambassador. Demy 8vo. 5s, net. 

Mr. Heineraann b^p to announce the publication of ELEANOR 


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VIRGIN/A Ellen Glasgow 

GOSLINGS J. D. Beresford 

THE AMBASSADRESS ■ WiUiam Wriotliesley 
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Heracles Scopas 

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A Music Lesson Frank Potter 

The Holy Family Michelangelo 

The Music Lesson (Chelsea Porcelain). 



137, Aldino House, Bedford St., W.C. 

' to his testamentaxy executors, that there might be no 
! cause of dispute after his death. He desired that the 
, rites of the Catholic faith should be observed at his 
i burial, and that the dining-room in which he was 
i accustomed to hear mass should be converted into a 

chapelle ardcnte. Dr. Antomarchi oould not help 

smiling as he heard these orders given to the Abbe 
\ Vignale. Napoleon considered this as a want of 

respect to his authority, his genius, and his death. 

" Young man," he said in a severe tone, " perhaps you 
I are too clever to believe in God ; I am not in that 

position — <i man cannot becoirte an atheist merely by 
\ wishing it" This severe lesson, spoken in terms 
j worthy of a great man at the point of death, over- 
1 whelmed the young doctor with confusion ; he made a 
\ thousand excuses, and made profession of the most 
I satisfactory moral principles. 


Notice to Correspondents. — Owing to the large number 
of letters received it is necessary for correspondents to writa 
briefly if their letters are to appear. 


[ To the Editor of Everyman. 

i Sir, — Air. W. A. Finch asks for a "reasoned state- 
ment " of the issues between Socialism and the pre- 
sent system as regards business. 

Clearly, Socialism has more to do with business than, 
I what its name might seem to imply, society. 
i Well, the answer to Mr. Finch comes in the very 
I number of E\"ERYMAN in which he puts his request. 

The '' business principle " of the present time is that 
I of " seeing a net profit when the transaction is com- 
pleted ; not necessarily a profit of increased wealth in 
■• all cases, but increased wealth is no doubt a compeUing 
I object." 

This is in a letter from Mr. S. T. Nicholson. 
It is exactly on this point of the need of " seeing a 
net profit " being the compelling force of enterprise 
which the Socialists do not or will not admit, and yet 
fail to show why not, and also entirely fail to provide 
any efficient substitute for it in their system if they 
admit its need. 

The nearest thing to a substitute I can find in 
Socialist writings is a dependence upon the natural 
animal liking for enterprise which exists in human 
beings. But I should like to ask any Socialists who de- 
pend upon this, Which of the animals ever continued 
to have efficient enterprise, or did not degenerate in a 
few generations, if they had no compulsion and diffi- 
culty in providing food for themselves and their 
families ? 

The domestic animals form no subject for an 
answer to this question, for they have compulsions 
alternative to those necessary to provide food, or, if 
they have not, they degenerate, as in the case of every 
spoilt pet dog. 

The Socialists have failed so far to show that their 
system is not degenerate, while the present system of 
business has not yet been shown to be degenerate. — - 
I am, sir, etc., ERNEST LoxLEY. 

London, E.C. 

To the Editor of Evervm.^n. 

Sir, — In response to his request for explanations, 
perhaps a very few words by way of supplement to 
my recent letter may serve to make my position clear 
and, at the same time, to mollify Mr. Doody. 

Instead of being, as he assumes, " very much con- 

Mat j6, 1913 



cerned about those people who are wavering, as it 
were, on the brink of Socialism, and who must be 
saved at any cost," it happens that I have for some 
time past ranged myself among those who, "though 
not yet sufficiently informed to reach a decision, arc 
strongly influenced, and, unless speedily shown where 
lie its sophistries and fallacies, will soon abandon their 
present state of suspended judgment, throw in their 
lot with the party of revolution, and do what they can," 
as Mr. Doody and my young friend, Mr. Greenwood, 
are already doing—" to make its principles and policy 
prevail." Hence my appeal, for such it was. 

I may be reminded, of course, that already in 
Everyman, at the hands of such an eminent litterateur 
as Mr. Belloc, the fundamental misconceptions of the 
Socialists have been exposed. Now, Mr. Belloc's fine 
phrase, " the Servile State," and his indignation 
against the unnatural crime of dispossessing the 
already dispossessed, and handing over the land to the 
pohticians, might vastly gratify those on the look-out 
for catch words. But if one proceeds to inquire how 
far the masses are to-day from the Servile State, or 
to what extent the ordinary politician meddles with 
Post Office administration or State Education, it 
becomes clear that Mr. Belloc has himself erected the 
windmills against which he tilts. 

I therefore still await, and trust that EVERYMAN 
may yet secure, a clear statement of the case for the 
opponents of Socialism, for "if serious argumenf in 
favour of the capitalist position exists, it certainly is 
not greatly in evidence." — I am, sir, etc., 

Leeds, May 12th, 1913. W. A. FiNCH. 

[This correspondence is now closed. — Editor.] 

To the Editor of Everymam. 

Sir, — E. Hermann's sketch of Borrow is very in- 
teresting, and one or two of the phrases are clear-cut 
gems, yet it does not appear to me to have placed 
Borrow in the right hght, especially in his relation to 
Isopel Berners ; she, as well as he, realised the inevit- 
ability of parting, and wherever she went I should 
think she was quite capable of taking care of herself. 

Rather than counting her love as water spilt upon 
the ground, I think it showed a strength of character in 
him far beyond the average man, for if ever a man 
craved for love and sympathy I should think it was 
Borrow, but, weighing it up in those dark, wind-swept 
silences, he realised his position as a nomadic wan- 
derer, yet with forces working within him that would 
one day cause him to alter the whole routine of his 
life ; and can anyone fancy Isopel Berners setthng 
down into the conventional life of an early Victorian 
home? Again, E. Hermann says nothing about that 
wonderful book, "Wild Wales, its People and 
Language." In it we get not only a fine description 
of his experiences in Wales, but also an insight to his 
comparatively happy home-life, so that I think E. Her- 
mann's description is not only inadequate, but tails off 
very flat ; but perhaps he was only allowed a page, 
and could not give fuller details ; if so, I am sorr)', 
and should like to read more about Borrow in your 
most excellent paper. — I am, sir, etc., 

Norvi'ich, May 5th. JOHN PACKER. 

To the Editor of 

Sir, — I was rather amu.sed to read in the apprecia- 
tion of William Cobbett week by Mr. F. E. Green, 
the statement that while two of Cobbett's " live " 


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J 48 


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books are still circulated by publishers, " at second- 
hand bookstalls you can still pick up copies of Cob- 
bett's . . . trenchant ' History of the Protestant Re- 
formation ' (1824)." 

If this means that it is only in such places one can 
get it, Mr. F. E. Green must be unaware of the fact 
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hand by the thousand and tens of thousands ; in fact, 
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to " the other side " — for obvious reasons.— I am, sir, 
etc., Henry Grey Graham. 

Motherwell, May 5 th. 

To the Editor of Evi;ryman. 

Sir, — Commenting on the notion that conscription 
would be " a great levelling force, and indeed the only 
remedy for the curse of caste," you say in a recent 
issue : " It would be interesting to trace this levelling 
influence in countries that have conscription — and 
more interesting than easy, one imagines." Now, I 
happen to have made a special study (partly on the 
spot) of conscription in Australia and New Zealand, 
and I write to assure you that, although in those 
countries the system of forced enhstment has taken 
a far less exacting form than its advocates propose for 
this country, and applies only to youths under twenty- 
one, it has during the short time it has been in force 
caused a great accentuation of class distinctions, and 
has pressed much more hardly upon the workers than 
upon the more fortunate classes. 

This has been strikingly evident in the case of the 
senior cadet training in Australia. Youths attending 
secondary schools, most of whom belong to the upper 
and middle classes, take their statutory drill in the 
school cadet corps as part of the curriculum. Working 
lads, on the other hand, are obliged to go to parade 
after the close of their day's work, and sometimes to 
sacrifice time which they would otherwise devote to 
the care and support of a widowed mother, or other 
dependent relatives. Others, whose work is partly 
done in evenings, must lose wages. This unequal 
treatment, though not designed — it is from the 
Government's point of view merely a matter of official 
convenience — is bitterly resented by those who suffer 
from it, and by workers' organisations. 

It might have been expected that a system which a 
Labour Government had a hand in framing would 
have been genuinely democratic. Yet we find the 
Sydney Worker, though a supporter of the Govern- 
ment, writing that " the devil of caste distinctions has 
already got into it " — the " citizen " army — " and the 
relations of subordination and authority are beginning 
to manifest themselves in acts of a disgusting tyranny." 

Labour organisations in different parts of the Com- 
monwealth have expressed their dissatisfaction with 
the Act, and at the recent annual conference of the 
Queensland section of the Australian Workers' Union 
it was resolved : — 

"That this conference emphatically recommends to the 
Federal Government the immediate alteration of the Federal 
Defence Act by an amending clause that will absolutely pro- 
hibit at any time the employment of the Federal military 
forces, arms, or accoutrements, against the citizens of the 
Commonwealth during strikes or internal disturbances. 

Hay i6, 1913 



Furthermore, that unless such amending clause be forthwith 
enacted, this conference shall use its utmost endeavours to 
effect a repeal of the Federal Defence Act." 

In New Zealand the workers are even more strongly 
and unitedly against the system. The national confer- 
ence which lately effected a combination of the two 
wings of the Labour party unanimously declared that 
"mihtarism has always been against the interests of 
the workers," and therefore demanded the immediate 
repeal of the Act. The Passive Resisters' Union, 
which consists of youths who are pledged to resist com- 
pulsion to the uttermost, and many of whose members 
have already been imprisoned for obeying their con- 
sciences rather than the law, is almost entirely a work- 
ing-class organisation. If a youth is fined for refusing 
to serve, the fine may be recovered by attachment of 
his wages — a special punitive measure which obviously 
can only be applied to wage-earners. The Passive 
Resisters' Union is meeting this trouble by encourag- 
ing those so penalised to cease work, and by allowing 
them strike pay. 

In New Zealand also, as in Australia, there is no 
legislative safeguard against the conscript forces being 
used in industrial disputes. In both countries the 
great majority of those punished for non-compliance 
belong to the working classes, and in both countries 
it has become evident in different ways that freedom 
of speech — that great safeguard of the masses against 
oppression — is seriously menaced by military power.^ — 
I am, sir, etc., S. V. BraCHER. 

Upper Bedford Place, W.C. 

To the Editor 0/ Evervm.a.n. 

.Sir, — The least that could be expected in an article 
under the above heading Is that some argument in 
support of the theory advanced would be produced, 
that this argument would have been supported by 
evidence of the strongest type, and that the conclu- 
sions from the data furnished would have been incon- 
trovertible. The question has, however, been 
answered in the affirmative, and the evidence is 
frankly admitted to be non-existent. There has 
never yet been a true statement that lacked proof of 
its truth. 

The principal premise in the article is that self-pre- 
servation causes mental development. There is in- 
stanced the primitive man who invents weapons and 
thus develops an additional brain convolution. If 
brain power is gained that way, intellectual progress 
to-day is very rapid. The whole point is how long 
did primitive man take to do these things ; what time 
elapsed from the moment he sat on a rock to the 
moment he constructed a chair? ^Eons or after- 
noons ? 

This is the greatest inventive age the world has 
ever seen, and the difference between this and all 
former ages in this particular is that inventions of 
to-day are of the creative and not of the consecutive 
order. The affirmative argument does not succeed on 
this ground. 

It is also argued that the possession of brain power 
is evidenced in primeval man in his ability to kill his 
fellows. _ The first man who realised it was not neces- 
sary to kill to live made a gigantic intellectual stride, 
ihink of it— a reversion of all preconceived thought. 
Yet it is at this precise moment that the writer sees the 
first mental retrogression. Presumably a further de- 
orioration of brain power coincided with the enuncia- 
ion of the .Sinaic law, with the institution of Chris- 
lanity, with the promulgation of the doctrines of 
Socialism, with the founding of the first hospital. 



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The argiuueut tliat " there ii no stciiggle for Hfe, no 
struggle which secures life to tlie cleverer and denies 
it to the more foolish," is also unsound, if the primitive 
view of life as mere existence is abandoned. The 
savage removed an opponent to the grave ; the 
civilised man removes him to the workhouse or the 
gutter. In botli cases tlie opposition ceases. (It 
should be noted that the savage certainly did not kill 
all his enemies.') The battle is one of brains instead 
of beef. A further intellectual advance will be made 
when' every child commences life with an equal chance, 
and when it will be impossible for a tramp and a mil- 
lionaire to be found, to exist even, in the same world. 

Of course, we are told mental deterioration is to be 
stopped by a process of selection. We are to beheve 
that the union of clever parents will produce clever 
children. Is this so ? The past does not prove it. 
Can it be that all the clever men of history married 
\ery inferior wives ? In India the people arc divided 
into castes, intermarriage is unknown ; yet one caste 
is not mentally superior, as it ought to be, to those 
beneath it. It appears true that certain physical pro- 
perties can be bred^ but that mental qualities are of too 
elusive a nature to submit to a similar process. 

Finally, just as the desire to kill has gone, so the 
desire that exists to-day to get wealth, or the fuller 
means of life as most apprehend tliem at present, will 
go, and in its place will be the desire to ameliorate for 
all the conditions of life. Brains will concentrate on 
this highest work to bring to all people a time when 
pain and sorrow and sighing shall be unknown. — I am, 
sir, etc., S. \\' . NICHOLSON. 

Baldock. . , 


To the Editor oj Evervmax. 

Sir,. — It is interesting to find a discussion going on 
in Everyman on the subject of typing as a profes- 
sion, for, while there are many people who will take an 
interest in chain-makers or teachers, they seem hardly 
to realise that there are such people as typists. 

The question has been raised as to whetlier the 
typist's work is " mechanical " or not. Without pre- 
tending to solve this problem, which appears to need 
tactful treatment, I should like to put forward a few 
■considerations, based on actual experience. 

If we consider all work as divided into two classes : 
(i) the original, artistic, individual; (2) the mechani- 
cal, routine, impersonal, I think we shall be obliged to 
put typing, like all other office work,, into the second 
category. In any employment that needs an 
"original" worker — for instance, sick-nursing or 
teaching — ^the diiferences between one pei-sonaUty 
5^nd another enter into the work, are essential to it 
But in a " mechanical " occupation, such as tending a 
box-making machine or adding up accounts, tlie work 
can be passed from one person to another without any 
bad result. In an office the men who dictate the 
letters are doing more or less original work ; the girls 
who " take down " the letters and type tliem out are 
doing mechanical work. 

When the first factory workers tried to persuade 
the millowners to make their day's work a little less 
long, they were sometimes met with the answer that 
the macliines needed no rest, and why should the 
workers ? Now, that shows up one of the weaknesses 
of the industrial revolution, and we typists are a result 
of that movement, and come under its curse as well as 
its blessing. 

Many employers look upon a typist simply as part 
of her machine— with a file inside her head. This 
accounts for the long hours often worked by typists, 

Hat 16, xsij 



and the strain to which we are often subjected by 
being made to work in a hurry. I think that people 
who have never worked a typewriter have, as a rule, 
very little idea of the effort, physical and mental, 
which is involved in typing letters at full speed all 
day long. 

Personally, I should never encourage a girl to enter 
this profession, not only on account of the long hours 
and nervous strain, but because the rate of remunera- 
tion is so low. If I may be allowed to quote my own 
case, I may say that, with a University education, good 
training, and two languages, I cannot earn more than 
35 s. a week, and this is considered an extremely hand- 
some salary. 

The only remedy for these grievances, as far as I 
can see, is a kind of Malthusian one. At present the 
profession is so overcrowded that a Trade Union 
would not do much good, for employers could always, 
I believe, get plenty of blackleg labour. The enor- 
mous number of typists makes competition for posts 
very keen and tends to bring down wages. It is pos- 
sible, of course, that an extension of the Trade Boards 
Act to typing might give us a minimum wage, which 
need not mean a uniform rate over the whole profes- 
sion, but which might do some good. Faihng a de- 
crease in numbers or the establishment of a minimum 
wage, I can only look to the invention cf a machine 
that will type. 

This is a subject on which I could write volumes, 
but this is probably already more than enough. — I am, 
sir, etc., Y. M. A. 

To the Editor of Evervmak. 

Sir, — Mr. Chiozza Money's second article appears 
a little disappointing after his first able and interest- 
ing one. He started with a great problem, which one 
anticipated he would have solved somewhat dif- 
ferently — that some 25,000,000, the greater part of 
whom are soft -handed, as he suggestively puts it, leave 
some 10,000,000 horny hand^ of toil, or '' the working 
classes," so called. To abolish these last would appear 
to be a simple sum in proportion. If such a vast 
number of the soft-handed have been created, why 
should not the remainder be likewise created by the 
same process or means? What have been those 
means that have already brought about such a remark- 
able result? It seems to come almost under one 
answer, mechanism. But for this most of those who 
now have a physically easy time would still be 
strenuous toilers; the majority of us would still be 
" the working classes." Mr. Chiozza Money's remedy 
would be to shorten the working day. This will un- 
doubtedly come about once the wants of the working 
classes are increased sufficientlvj and this, as Buckle, 
the historian, so illuminatingly put it, can only be 
brought about by education. It is education which 
increases human wants, and, still more, it increases 
also the supply of wants, and so will ultimately abolish 
the physically " working classes." 

One wonders if the ever-increasing soft-handed 
masses reahse these causes that are at work to-day 
and ever have been since the common cart-wheel was 
invented, reducing physical labour more and more into 
intellectual labour, perhaps tlie hardest of all labour. 

One wonders if the working and soft-handed classes 
realise how physical labour all round would be in- 
creased by a sudden cessation of all mechanism. 

The commonest want, food that comes to our 
mouths, came by the plough and the sickle, long ante- 
cedent to the knife and fork; but the amount cf 



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ADDRESS-...;. — 

Date cf ElKTH 



Mav i6, 191] 

mechanism in use to-day to bring each of us the com- 
monest commodity or the rarest is almost unthinkable. 
Every increase in such processes will ultimately abolish 
the so-called " working classes." — I am, sir, etc., 
London, S.W. T. R. Bridgwater. 

To the Editor of Everyman. 

Sir, — I am glad that my articles under the above 
heading produced so many interesting and valuable 
letters. It is, of course, impossible for me to reply to 
all of them, and I will confine myself to the chief point 
which, as it appears to me, escapes the attention of 
some of your correspondents. It is this : that so- 
called " mental " work usually calls for much less 
mental effort than commonly so-called " manual " 
work. I do not, of course, refer to the high 
quahties demanded by some kinds of direc- 
tion, or by design, or artistry, or engineering in its 
broadest sense. I refer to the routine work per- 
formed by " brain " workers, such as clerks, agents, 
travellers, traders, etc. A little reflection will show 
your correspondents that it requires far more brain 
work (i) to build a good brick wall in English bond 
than to make entries in a ledger ; (2) to make a piece 
of framed joinery than to sell goods on commission ; 
(3) to do the electric wiring of an ordinary house than 
to buy goods at wholesale prices and to sell them over 
the counter at retail prices. Indeed, I might go fur- 
ther, and point out that the "manual" operations I 
have just named call not only for more mental effort, 
but for a higher order of mental effort, than the alleged 
brainworks with which I have contrasted them. 

For the rest, may I be permitted to refer your 
readers who desire to follow up the subject at greater 
length, to the essay entitled " Work in the Great 
State," which I contributed to the volum.e entitled 
"The Great State," edited by Mr. H. G. Wells?— I 
am, sir, etc., L. G. Chiozza Money. 

To the Editor of Everyman. 

Sir, — Your contributor, Signor Enrico Corradini, in 
his attempt to prove the necessity of war, makes two 
groundless assumptions. 

1. " All living things," he says, "tend to decay and 
die, and are kept alive by a force which is constantly 
renewing them." So far, so good. That renewing 
force in social organisms he declares to be war ; but 
he does not attempt to prove it, he merely contents 
himself with giving two illustrations in support of his 
theory. In fact, he himself furnishes his readers, in 
the very same paragraph, with a refutation of his un- 
warranted assumption. " Wars of conquest pour new 
life into a country, in so far as they drive out those 
who, in view of this ethical relationship between a 
country and its people, are usurpers, and establish in 
their place a productive race." War, then, he admits 
in these words, does not put new life into a moribund 
people, but merely drives them out of their land to 
go elsewhere, and pursue the self-same policy. 

2. Signor Corradini also assumes that the ag- 
gressors in any war are a live people, that the de- 
fenders are " usurpers " of the land in which they live, 
and that the former, when victorious, after dis- 
possessing their victims of their land, turn that land 
to productive uses. Is this so? I think not. Take 
the case of the Norman Conquest of England. 
William the Conqueror, to achieve his purpose — the 
conquest of England^-devastated the part of the 
country between York and the Tees. Town and 
village were burnt ; cattle and implements of industry 
were destroyed. " The famine which followed," says 

Green, " is said to have swept off more than a hundred 
thousand victims." Were the people thus maltreated 
usurpers of the land in which they lived ? Were they 
driven off that a productive race might take their 
place ? Half a century later," the same writer goes on 
to say, " the land still lay bare of culture and deserted 
of men for sixty miles northward of York." 

Was the American Civil War of 1861-65 a force to 
revive any social organism ? Did it drive any unpro- 
ductive people from their land to be replaced by a 
productive one ? Did the Crimean War drive out any 
" usurpers and establish in their place a productive 

Examples like these may be given freely to show 
that, comparatively speaking, seldom has any war 
achieved what your contributor believes to be the pur- 
pose of war. 

War, he also says, is one of the "laws to which 
human society, nations, and peoples are subject." If 
he means that we are prone to war, I admit that there 
is some truth in his statement. But if he means — 
as I understand him to mean — that we are under the 
power of war, just as the English nation, for instance, 
is under the power of its Parliament, then I think 
that he is quite mistaken. For we are not compelled 
to wage war any more than we are compelled to 
assault the first person we meet on going out of the 

Does Signor Enrico Corradini really believe that 
Providence, in its superintendence of mankind, de- 
cides when and between whom there shall be war? 
Does he entirely disbelieve in free will? One or two 
sentences of his article lead us to believe that he does. 
—I am, sir, etc., Wm. Arnold Hawkins. 


To the Editor of Everyman. — 

Sir, — May I be allowed to offer a few remarks on 
the letter of Mr. A. Hilliard AtteridgL in your issue 
of May 2nd ? 

In order to point out one of the factors on which 
the writer considers the superiority of present-day 
civilisation is based, he says that " the citizens were 
a small class, whose leisure and opportunities for cul- 
tured enjoyment depended on the existence of a large 
slave population. In the great days of the Athenian 
State there were probably three slaves to every free 
citizen." The aim of the writer is evidently to prove 
that at the present day slavery does not exist, and 
that every man — and woman — has the opportunity of 
developing his capacities to the utmost, and, there- 
fore, the actual state of society is intellectually and 
morally far beyond that of the Greeks. 

Now, sir, this asserted condition of freedom does not 
exist at the present day. It is true that no man is 
legally the property of another, but, to all intents and 
purposes, the great majority of members of the com- 
munity belong, body and soul, to the comparatively 
few of a privileged class. They work long hours in 
order to earn their daily bread- — in many cases a bare 
pittance — and when they are no longer fit to do this 
they are left to a doled-out charity or — to starve. It 
is bare-faced hypocrisy to maintain that their state is 
any better than that of the Greek slaves — in many 
cases it is worse, for the ancient slave was always of 
a certain value to his master, and it was in the inte- 
rest of the latter to see that this value did not de- 
crease. What does it matter to the capitalist of the 
present day whether the value of his hands goes down 
or not, he can generally get a further supply without 
much difficulty. 

(Continued on fagt 154. J 

4Iat i6, X91] 



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Name " 




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May i6, 191} 

You can te»t our NEW POSTAL LESSONS in 




for the modaat sum of ONE SHILLING. 

4S. Great Tower Street. I ondon. F..C. 

THE AUTHORS' AIXIAN'CE place MSS. promptly and on 
best terms. Litcr.nry work of all kinds dealt with by eirurts who_ place 
Authors' interest Erst. Twenty years' esi>erienoe. ' "' -■ ' "" '" 

-Z. Clement's Inn. W.C. 

LEDGE can be the possession of all suffering from neslecied eduration. 
We teach by rost. Splendid results. Send stamp for booklet 1:6 —BROAD- 

"T^-PEWRITING.— Literary ahd General MSS.. Sd. per 1.000 
■^ words. Plays. Is. per 1,000 words. Carbon-copies. Id. ettta per 1.000 
words.— C. A. GIRTON. 2. Grove Lane. Camberwell. S E 

Mr. Atteridge further goes on to state that the 
Greeks trusted the defence of their cities to slaves and 
mercenaries, and attributes to this a share in the dowri- 
f all of the race. This may possibly be true ; but, if it 
is, then one can only remark that the same fate will 
overtake England, for to whom is the defence of the 
country entrusted if not to paid soldiers, which is a 
euphemistic name for mercenaries. What an outcry 
is made by the parties representing the so-called moral 
forces of the nation when the word " conscription "— - 
which, after all, means democratic national defence — is 
uttered !— I am, sir, etc., C. J. ADAMS. 


LThir correspondence is now closed. — ^EorrOR.] 


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ADDmss - 

To the Editor of Evervm.\n. 

Sir, — I am pained that your reviewer of my book, 
" The Quiet Spirit," in your issue of May 2nd, should 
have been led by what he not incorrectly calls his 
ignorance into ascribing to me an addiction to 
" Futurism " (whatever that may be). 

Although he says it would be unkind to ask me tOj 
explain the word "paddock," I really think it would: 
be an act of kindness to him to do so. " Paddock," in 
English, means " toad " or " frog." 

" For who that's but a queen, fair, sober, wise. 
Would from a paddock, from a bat, a gib. 
Such dear discernings hide?" 

—Hamlet, Act 111., Scene IV., line 190. 

"Paddock calls." 

'^Macbeth, Act I., Scene I., line 9. 

"Here, a little ohild, I stand, 
Heaving up my either hand. 
Cold as paddocks tho' they be." 

—Herrict, «A Child's Grace." 

"O thae ftiddoci pies! " 

—Bon Gualtier, "The Queen in France." 

I give the first few literary examples that occur to 
me. Every schoolboy, at least north of the Tweedj 
knows what a " puddock " is. "^ 

As it appears that your reviewer, having hit upon 
the incongruity of a racecourse paddock loping by on 
the second page of my book, has read no further, and 
on this somewhat slender acquaintance has proceeded 
to condemn the whole, I thiiik/in fairness, I may ask 
you<o publish this letter. — I am, sir, etc., 

Glasgow, May 8th, 1913. J. S. MUIRHEAD. 

To the Editor of Evervm.\n. 

Sir, — I have just read a letter from D. M. T. re 
article on above subject by J. R. Clynes, M.P., which 
appeared in your issue of April i8th. How D. M. T. 
can construe the meaning he does from such an article 
I cannot imagine. 

He asks : " Does Mr. Clynes really think that for a 
working man, when really tired of work, to sit and 
secure the delights of a ' Path to Rome ' would solace 
that man for the hours of sweated slavery, his blood 
pittance of perhaps 12s. a week on which to keep a 
wife and dozen little ones ? " Certainly not ! How 
can the writer think this when Mr. Clynes declares 
that he " would not have books intended to make men 
content with evil conditions or submissive to them. 
The more men read usefully and well the less well 
they yield ... to under-payment in the matter of 
reward for their work." 

Again, does D. M. T. suggest that when a "man 
is really tired wi/fi work, that such a man has neces- 
sarily been a victim of the sweating system? Many 
a man has been " tired of work," but at the same 

May i6, )9Ij 



time has received adequate remuneration for such 
work. Also does not D. M. T. let his imagination run 
riot when he pictures a man and wife with a " dozen 
little ones"? If such a couple had a dozen children, 
!(n»e of them would be anything but "' little." 

How does D. M. T. reconcile the sentence in his 
letter, "that labour unrest would be increased," 
with the one in Mr. Clynes' article, namely, 
" Labour unrest would be increased, though better ex- 
pressed and more scientifically directed if workmen 
used to greater extent the intellectual levers of 
Ruskin," etc. I see nothing here to suggest that Mr. 
Clynes disapproves of labour unrest. 

I quite agree with D. M. T. when he says that " the 
intellectual powers lie low when the body is half clad 
and half starved," but this is no reason why such 
powers, small though they be, should not be utilised to 
the best tidvantage. 

Let D. M. T. read the article again carefully, and 
he will see that the writer does not" for one moment 
suggest that the reading of books compensate a man 
for any loss of physical force, but only help to im- 
prove and brighten many a life which would other- 
wise be monotonous, dull, and irksome. — I am, sir, 
etc., E. Wainwright Ffoulkes. 

May 3, 191 3. 


The authors of THE DANCING CHILD (Chapman and 
Hall, 6s.) have followed the popular craze for a 
heroine of the music-halls. As a rule, the child dances 
into the notice of the reader to the strains of a piano 
organ, her performance is witnessed by a passing im- 
presario, who there and then trains her, and launches 
her on the stream of success, whereon she sails to an 
ultimate marriage with a member of the aristocracy. 
The latest novel of this kind opens with a new gambit. 
Katie, the small person in question, is Irish, and her 
dances are light and airy as the summer breeze. She 
is discovered by Mrs. Chapman, an unutterably 
selfish woman, who, dishking work herself, decides 
that Katie shall work for her. She has left her hus- 
band, disgusted with his poverty, and has taken a 
situation in Ireland. The characterisation of this 
woman is distinctly clever. She is introduced to us as 
a spectator in the gallery of a theatre watching the 
performance of a child genius who does wonderful 
things in the dancing line. Then and there she forms 
a resolution of finding and training a similar genius, 
and Fortune throws Katie in her way. Utterly alone 
in the world, the child accepts the fact of Ethel's adop- 
tion without question or complaint ; the secret of the 
woman's influence marks a departure from the 
ordinary conventional novel. Katie is managed 
through her love for the fairies, Mrs. Chapman in- 
spiring the child with the belief that the " little 
people " have adopted her as their instrument. There 
:s a strain of fantasy throughout the story that re- 
deems it from the commonplace. The style is fresh 
and original, and on tlie whole the authors are to 
be congratulated on their success. 

9 9 9 

Agnes and Egerton Castle are notable for distinc- 
tion of phrase and a quiet reserve of style. CHANCE 
THE Piper (Smith, Elder and Co., 6s.) exhibits the 
characteristics of these authors, and the collection of 
short stories published under the above title are 
eminently readable and occasionally subtle. The 
most dramatic is entitled " Moon's Gibbet.' This is a 

j\. RemarKable Letter 

from an Kminent V\nat3mist, 

43, Russell Square, London. 

Dear Mr. Cax, — Yoitr lesfions,or, rather, the explanaiion of 
your ideas as ii> the traininii of the poiver of tnemory, havj 
tiiz'cn me the uiost intense pleasure, tind J KNOW thitt yoit 
have Kot clown to rockbottotn truth in vour ideas, and that 
you have dez^elopetl the OA7i cortect plan to which to ivorU 
/or the purPosi.' of memory irainin;'.. You need have no fvar 
with I euard to the correctness of your physii lo^y, xe'iich is 
correct in every d''iail, arul youf system is, I am sure, the 
correct met-Jtod of thoroughly inipintiinfi upon the btain cells 
and causing them to react inresfonse to t- e imPnlses sent 
iu them. Yon sec that you call into play the worJi of the 
nerve endings in the cells by force of will in th^ t-ame 
manner in xvh ch they would be called into play by the 
senses thrmiti/i the ort'ans of the eyes, ears, and fintiers. and 
the inipulsesiops in the brain without beinu sent out attain 
and dissipated in the use of those orfjans, which is naturally 
more or less of a drain upnn the body. 

Your system also compels conceniraiion in three or Per- 
haps more distinct ways, and I have always been of 
opinion that the reason of all poor memory was the inabilify 
to concentrate, ami ynu have been able to explain in a very 
few ttO'ds a threefold means of conce itratinn which must 
be Tuore than threefold more va'.uc than a sintile means. 

I am quite sure that your system fmrsued will result in a 
strenfitheninti of the nerve tissues involved in the act of 
storing* impressions in the brain, and as use develops any 
tissue, so it will develop brain tissue also. 

In each of us is the t^oj er of memory. It is only atrophied 
for want of exercise. It is a physioU'Hical laiv that wlutt is 
not used begins immediately to atrophy, and we have 
allowed tuauy of <.«(■ potvers to atrophy by lack 0/ xtse, 
particularly the Power of storing impressions. 

I am qn-ite snre also that you-r system will i>c of the very 
/greatest assistance in maintaining and even in restoi ing the 
health of the physical in^ssucs. — Yours sincerely, J. J. .MA Y. 



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Address — Farrinstord. Tettenh;;U l^oad. Wolverhamptoa. 
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tale that contains the shuddering suggestion of horror 
necessary to your true ghost story. It treats of a man 
already hanged who was rescued from the gallows 
swinging in chains that creaked with every motion of 
the midnight air. To the gallows comes his father, 
where he chances on the teller of the tale, a young 
surveyor who is making observations on the moor. 
Together the two men cut down the murderer, and 
with frantic haste revive the spark of hfe not yet ex- 
tinct within him. Urged by the force of the old 
man's will, the surveyor carries home the victim of the 
gallows and assists in his further recovery. Their 
efforts are interrupted by a knocking at the door, the 
surveyor is hustled into another room, and a stormy 
interview ensues. At the conclusion of the conversa- 
tion the surveyor discovers the caller has disappeared ; 
the son, once more attired in the ghastly dress of the 
gallows, his head and face covered with the black cap, 
his limbs fettered with chains, is stretched upon the 
bed. He is dead, the old man explains, and together 
they return with their burden to Moon's Gibbet. The 
surveyor goes back to the cottage for his instruments, 
and there, seated before the hre, he finds the son of 
the old man — alive! And he knows he has assisted, 
all unwitting, in a murder. There is much, as we have 
said, that is dramatic in this volume, but we miss the 
touch of romance and the flutter of fancy that 
distinguish Mr. Castle's earlier work, and while 
appreciating the stories of his more recent manner,' 
we would gladly welcome one of his old-time tales. 

The Destroying Angel (Grant Richards, 6s.) is 
a lurid novel, centring round a beautiful and tragic 
adventuress. We have met the type many times 
before ; it is eternal, and we suppose will outlast the 
most original and individual creations of fiction. The 
hero, by name Whitaker, discovers the lady in the act 
of swallowing oxalic acid. He rescues her, in the 
usual approved fashion, and is obliging enough to 
marry her that she may suffer no inconvenience from 
the lack of a duly respectable name. Meanwhile 
Whitaker has been condemned to death by a doctor. 
He suffers from those mysterious diseases known only 
to fictionists, and attains a marvellous cure, which per- 
mits him to perform feats of herculean strength. He 
goes into the wilds in pursuit of his health, and returns 
to find Mary a famous actress! The end of this 
amazing book is of a wild and whirling description. 
Mary, who is playing the leading part in a drama, 
finds herself faced by a theatrical manager who, 
desperate with love for her, aims a pistol at her 
heart. She is rescued by the frantic leap of 
Whitaker 's friend Ember from a box to the stage. 

• • • 

Mrs. Henry de la Pasture is invariably successful in 
depicting scenes of domestic life. There is a fresh- 
ness and charm about her work that intrigues the 
interest, and is restful to the reader of many mediocre 
novels. In MICHAEL FerrYS (Smith, Elder and Co., 
6s.) she has departed from her usual methods. The 
story is practically a prolonged discussion on religion, 
and lengthy philosophical arguments impede the 
action of the drama and block the stage. It is only 
those fortunate persons with assured incomes and 
plenty of leisure that are able to devote such a very 
long time to the dissection of motive, and the analysis 
of souls. Now and again the author harks back 
to her earlier manner, and we get a touch of the 
breezy humour of " Deborah." We are grateful for 
this relief, but most ardently hope that Mrs. de la 
Pasture will not again es.say a treatise on theology. 

Mat it, IS13 



The heroine of RuE AND RosES (Heinemann, 55.) is 
pre-eminently a Puritan. She has an innate shrinking 
from the physical side of life, and realises material 
facts with a shock that for the time seems to paralyse 
her capacity for discrimination. In an eloquent 
introduction, Mr. W. L. Courtney describes Anna as 
"doomed to be the Eternal Virgin, the predestinate 
Spinster. In a world in which the feminine race 
largely predominates there are not lovers and hus- 
bands enough to go round, and she must remain out- 
side that charmed circle — the leaping flames of love 
and passion, which seem to embrace all the world ex- 
cept herself." We do not agree with this estimate of 
the character of the girl with the "strange wonderful 
smile." Renunciation, we are told, becomes Anna's 
ideal, and renunciation carried to the point of mutila- 
tion is not the ideal of a virgin, but of the Calvinist 
predestined to a fierce immolation that stings and 
sears the beholders. The book is interesting and 
intensely provocative of thought. Miss Angela 
Langer writes with a charm attenuated but fragrant, 
and her simplicity of phrasing creates an effect in 
harmony with the personality of the heroine. Anrla is 
not a success as a sweetheart — that goes without 
saying — and one feels that the letter from her lover, in 
which he finally sets her in a world apart, is the only 
possible solution of the matter. Anna, with her 
intense capacity for self-deception, her almost morbid 
powers of introspection, would break the heart of any 
man. She suffers from anaemia of the emotions, and 
the fierce virginal flame that Mr. Courtney claims for 
her could never have burnt in so pallid a spirit. Re- 
nunciation is the go.spel she preaches, but it is a re- 
nunciation of one who has never possessed what she 
lays down. » » » 

Messrs. Murray and Evenden, Ltd., have just pub- 
lished another military novel from the pen of Mr. 
Stephen Knott, ONCE ROUND (6s.). The scene is 
laid in the Midlands, where the hero's regiment is 
quartered. Mr. Knott gives a vivid and amusing in- 
sight into the lives of the subalterns in His Majesty's 
Army, both in and out of barracks, and the book con- 
tains many entertaining yarns of soldier life. The 
love story of Toby and Sylvia is rather tangled, but it 
eventually smoothes itself out and ends happily for 
everyone concerned, including the various ladies to 
whom the incorrigible Toby has " engaged " himself 
provisionally with such commendable courage. We 
cannot help feeling that Mr. Knott is rather hard on 
the " self-made " man, and venture to suggest that 
there are other and more amiable sides to the 
character of such men than he would lead us to believe, 
but, apart from this, the book is well deserving of 
praise. The " ragging " scene is cleverly written, and 
we can assure the author that we thoroughly sympa- 
thise with the " scoundrelly Courtier," and feel that 
if we had been placed in his position we should have 
done exactly the same, with the reservation that we 
should have probably been rather more violent in our 
treatment of Mullin, the outsider. Mr. Knott pre- 
faces his book with a quotation from the " Knife- 
grinder " — " Story ? Lord bless you ! I have none to 
tell, sir." With this we venture to disagree. Mr. 
Knott has a story, and he tells it very well. 
9 » » 

A story of blackmail and intrigue, melodramatic 
happenings and sensational incidents, told in a notably 
restrained style, with touches of real literary excel- 
lence. Such is Patchwork Comedy (G. P. Put- 
nam Sons,. 6s.). Mr. Humfrey Jordan has a gift of 
characterisation. His sketches of the Carfew Father 
and .Son are admirably executed ; we almost believe 



The road to Prosperity is, as everybody knows, not 
the straight, smooth, long road of our desires; it is a 
devious, rough, and sometimes difficult road to follow. 

Yet I venture to think that the majority of "side 
tracked " wayfarers upon that road have something 
other than the road to blame; often, I think, themselves. 

Nothing is more piteous than the man — or tlie woman 
— who is "in the rut," a-rusting upon some dismal 
byway of commerce; yet being more the result of fault 
than of opportunities. 

It cannot be too often said that there are as many 
opportunities in the world to-day as at any stage of the 
world's history; even more, the busy business world is 
full of chances to "get on "; full of the beginnings 
which, rightly used, end in prosperity. 

Every year extends the sphere of business; every year 
adds to its activities, and every extension brings a fresh 
crowd of chances to the men and women who want to 
"get on." 

Advertising is one of the most notable recent 
examples of a new plan of business-creating occupation^ 
and good opportunities for thousands. 

Ten or twelve years ago, advertising was, to a great 
extent, in its infancy in this country; we were only on 
the verge of those developments which to-day afford a 
lucrative occupation for many workers. 

It is to such professions as these, that th'e man or 
woman "in a rut" should turn in search of progress; 
for then progress is possible. 

An easy and safe avenue of approach is supplied by 
the excellent and practical course of correspondence 
instruction in advertisement-writing and designing 
which the Practical Correspondence College offer.s. The 
Practical Correspondence College is an institution w hich 
has already proved of immense value to men and women 
all over the country, who, refusing to "rust " in the by- 
way of business, at a starvation wage, have sought a 
field where their brains could be used to profitable 

I know one young fellow — a shop assistant in the pro- 
vinces some six years ago — now occupies a manager's 
position in one of the biggest and most successful adver- 
tising firms. '<^av 

He was trained to success by the P.C.C. 

I know another who not four years ago v\ as working 
.very hard in uncongenial employment at a very small 
salary. To-day he is acting as advertising representa- 
tive for a thriving newspaper. 

He also was trained to success by the P.C.C. 

I could multiply these cases a hundredfold, and not 
exhaust one half of the remarkable instances of how a 
P.C.C. training can lift a man up from obscurity and 
poverty to a good position and a lucrative income. 

To the man or woman, then, with the ambition to 
prosper and the energy to devote a little spare time to 
preparing themselves for betterment I can indicate no 
better course of action than to write to the Secretary of 
the Practical Correspondence College for a copy of 
"Brains and Ink," an illustrated and thoroughly inter- 
esting booklet on the possibilities of the advertising pro- 
fession and the means which the P.C.C. place at its 
students' disposal to aid them in qualifying for a well- 
paid position in that well-paid profession. 

"Brains and Ink " will be sent post free upon request. 
Address, the Secretary, Practical Correspondence Gol- 
lege, 77, Thanet House, Strand, London, W.C 



Mat i6, ijij 

in their existence, and are inclined to regard the scenes 
of wild and whirling sensation throu